21 May 1838 – 27 May 1838

The school-boy loitered on his way to school, Scorning to live so rare a day by rule. So mild the air a pleasure 'twas to breathe, For what seems heaven above was earth beneath. Soured neighbors chatted by the garden pale, Nor quarrelled who should drive the needed nail; The most unsocial made new friends that day, As when the sun shines husbandmen make hay. How long I slept I know not, but at last I felt my consciousness returning fast, For Zephyr rustled past with leafy tread, And heedlessly with one heel grazed my head. My eyelids opened on a field of blue, For close above a nodding violet grew; A part of heaven it seemed, which one could scent, Its blue commingling with the firmament.