from _THE_TASK_ William Cowper c. 1785 ========================== No noise is here, or none that hinders thought. The redbreast warbles still, but is content With slender notes, and more than half suppress'd: Pleas'd with his solitude, and flitting light From spray to spray, where'er he rests he shakes From many a twig the pendant drops of ice, That tinkle in the wither'd leaves below. (6.76-82) ======== ========