A Day for Wandering

I SET apart a day for wandering;
I heard the woodlands ring,
The hidden white-throat sing,
And the harmonic West,
Beyond a far hill-crest,

Touch its Aeolian string.
Remote from all the brawl and bruit of men,
The iron tongue of Trade,
I followed the clear calling of a wren
Deep to the bosom of a sheltered glade,
Where interwoven branches spread a shade
Of soft cool beryl like the evening seas
Unruffled by the breeze.
And there―and there―
I watched the maiden-hair,
The pale blue iris-grass,
The water-spider in its pause and pass
Upon a pool that like a mirror was.

I took for confidant
The diligent ant 20
Threading the clover and the sorrel aisles;
For me were all the smiles
Of the sequestered blossoms there abloom―
Chalice and crown and plume;
I drank the ripe rich attars blurred and blent,
And won―Content!

our mind needs free activity. So when it is necessary, we're supposed to give it a reward- free activity.