A perpetual Sabbath seemed to reign in my soul, and when
I got out among the fields I took out my dear fiddle and played and
sang, as I walked along the country road--
"The favored ones, the loved of Heaven,
God sends to roam the world at will;
His wonders to their gaze are given
By field and forest, stream and hill.
"The dullards who at home are staying
Are not refreshed by morning's ray;
They grovel, earth-born calls obeying,
And petty cares beset their day.
"The little brooks o'er rocks are springing,
The lark's gay carol fills the air;
Why should not I with them be singing
A joyous anthem free from care?
"I wander on, in God confiding,
For all are His, wood, field, and fell;
O'er earth and skies He, still presiding,
For me will order all things well."
As I was looking around, a fine traveling-carriage drove along very
near me; it had probably been just behind me for some time without
my perceiving it, so filled with melody had I been, for it was going
quite slowly, and two elegant ladies had their heads out of the
window, listening. One was especially beautiful, and younger than the
other, but both pleased me extremely. When I stopped singing the elder
ordered the coachman to stop his horses, and accosted me with great
condescension: "Aha, my merry lad, you know how to sing very pretty
songs!" I, nothing loath, replied, "Please Your Grace, I know some
far prettier.
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