Nature, not content with denying him the ability to think, has endowed him with the ability to write.

Nature not content with denying him the ability to think, has endowed him with the ability to write.

Nature not content with denying him the ability to think, has endowed him with the ability to write

That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.

Oh fair enough are sky and plain,
But I know fairer far:
Those are as beautiful again
That in the water are;

The pools and rivers wash so clean
The trees and clouds and air,
The like on earth was never seen,
And oh that I were there.

These are the thoughts I often think
As I stand gazing down
In act upon the cressy brink
To strip and dive and drown;

But in the golden-sanded brooks
And azure meres I spy
A silly lad that longs and looks
And wishes he were I.

Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.