The Uses of Poetry

I've fond anticipation of a day O'erfilled with pure diversion presently For I must read a lady poesy The while we glide by many a leafy bay Hid deep in rushes, where at random play The glossy black winged May-flies, or whence flee Hush-throated nestlings in alarm Whom we have idly frighted with our boat's long sway For, lest o'ersaddened by such woes as spring To rural peace from our meek onward trend What else more fit? We'll draw the latch-string And close the door of sense; then satiate wend On poesy's transforming giant wing To worlds afar whose fruits all anguish mend