Oh, sweet content, that turns the labourer's sweat To tears of joy, and shines the roughest face; How often have I sought you high and low, And found you still in some lone quiet place;
Here, in my room, when full of happy dreams, With no life heard beyond that merry sound Of moths that on my lighted ceiling kiss Their shadows as they dance and dance around;
Or in a garden, on a summer's night, When I have seen the dark and solemn air Blink with the blind bats' wings, and heaven's bright face Twitch with the stars that shine in thousands there. Questions:
(49) What does the poet mean by ‘no life heard’?
(50) Why, do you think, has poet mentioned the labourer?
(51) What message does the poet give us in this poem?
(52) Give the antonym for – (a) heaven (b) bright.
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antonym of heaven is hell and bright is dull
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