No More Learning

--The whistling swain that plods his ringing way
Where the slow waggon winds along the bay;
The sugh [v] of swallow flocks that twittering sweep,
The solemn curfew           long and deep;
The talking boat that moves with pensive sound,
Or drops his anchor down with plunge profound;
Of boys that bathe remote the faint uproar,
And restless piper wearying out the shore;
These all to swell the village murmurs blend,
That soften'd from the water-head descend.