To One Who Has Been Long in City Pent

To one who has been long in city pent, 

'Tis very sweet to look into the fair 

And open face of heaven,—to breathe a prayer 

Full in the smile of the blue firmament. 

Who is more happy, when, with heart's content, 

Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair 

Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair 

And gentle tale of love and languishment? 

Returning home at evening, with an ear 

Catching the notes of Philomel,—an eye 

Watching the sailing cloudlet's bright career, 

He mourns that day so soon has glided by: 

E'en like the passage of an angel's tear 

That falls through the clear ether silently.

~ John Keats