435 Confederate, imitative of the chase And woodland pleasures,-the resounding horn, The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare. So through the darkness and the cold we flew, And not a voice was idle; with the din 440 Smitten, the precipices rang aloud; The leafless trees and every icy crag 445 Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west The orange sky of evening died away. Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous 450 To cut across the reflex of a star That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes, When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side 455 Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once 460 With visible motion her diurnal round! Behind me did they stretch in solenın train, Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep. Ye Presences of Nature in the sky 465 And on the earth! Ye Visions of the hills! And Souls of lonely places! can I think A vulgar hope was yours when ye employed Such ministry, when ye through many a year Haunting me thus among my boyish sports, 470 On caves and trees, upon the woods and hills, Impressed upon all forms the characters Of danger or desire; and thus did make The surface of the universal earth With triumph and delight, with hope and fear, 475 Work like a sea? Not uselessly employed, Might I pursue this theme through every change 585 And is forgotten; even then I felt And common face of Nature spake to me Rememberable things; sometimes, 'tis true, By chance collisions and quaint accidents 190 (Like those ill-sorted unions, work supposed Of evil-minded fairies), yet not vain 290 And sorrow is not there! The seasons came, Which, but for this most watchful power Had been neglected; left a register 295 More active even than "best society"- -And if the vulgar joy by its own weight 300 Perceived in things, where, to the unwatch- The scenes which were a witness of that joy Of things forgotten, these same scenes so So beautiful, so majestic in themselves, Though yet the day was distant, did become 610 Habitually dear, and all their forms 265 From Book II. SCHOOL-TIME From early days, I have endeavored to display the means 270 Whereby this infant sensibility, Great birthright of our being, was in me ful eye, No difference is, and hence, from the same Sublimer joy! for I would walk alone, 305 To breathe an elevated mood, by form Or image unprofaned; and I would stand, are The ghostly language of the ancient earth, 310 Or make their dim abode in distant winds. Thence did I drink the visionary power; And deem not profitless those fleeting moods Of shadowy exultation: not for this, Remembering not, retains an obscure sense With growing faculties she doth aspire, And not alone, 'Mid gloom and tumult, but no less 'mid fair And tranquil scenes, that universal power 325 And fitness in the latent qualities 346 350 And essences of things, by which the mind Appeared like something in myself, a dream, A prospect in the mind. I had received so much, that all my thoughts Were steeped in feeling; I was only then "Twere long to tell 400 Contented, when with bliss ineffable I felt the sentiment of Being spread O'er all that moves and all that seemeth still; What spring and autumn, what the winter snows, And what the summer shade, what day 355 Evening and morning, sleep and waking, From sources inexhaustible, poured forth 405 In which I walked with Nature. But let this That by the regular action of the world 410 With general tendency, but, for the most, sun 370 Bestowed new splendor; the melodious birds, The fluttering breezes, fountains that run on Murmuring so sweetly in themselves, A like dominion, and the midnight storm 420 375 Grew darker in the presence of my eye: Hence my obeisance, my devotion hence, And hence my transport. Nor should this, perchance, 380 More pleasing, and whose character I deem 385 In objects where no brotherhood exists O'er all that, lost beyond the reach of thought And human knowledge, to the human eye Invisible, yet liveth to the heart; O'er all that leaps and runs, and shouts and sings, Or beats the gladsome air; o'er all that glides Beneath the wave, yea, in the wave itself, With every form of creature, as it looked Forgot her functions, and slept undisturbed. If this be error, and another faith So dear, if I should fail with grateful voice 425 And sounding cataracts, ye mists and winds If in my youth I have been pure in heart, To passive minds. My seventeenth year 430 With God and Nature communing, re Yet mingled not unwillingly with sneers 120 All finite motions overruling, lives 440 On visionary minds; if, in this time Of dereliction and dismay, I yet My lofty speculations; and in thee, From Book III. RESIDENCE AT CAMBRIDGE In glory immutable. But peace! enough Even the loose stones that cover the high- I gave a moral life: I saw them feel, 130 Or linked them to some feeling: the great mass Lay bedded in a quickening soul, and all 320 The cock had crowed, and now the eastern sky Was kindling, not unseen, from humble And homeward led my steps. Magnificent The morning rose, in memorable pomp, 225 Glorious as e'er I had beheld-in front, The sea lay laughing at a distance; near, The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds, Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light; And in the meadows and the lower grounds 330 Was all the sweetness of a common dawnDews, vapors, and the melody of birds, And laborers going forth to till the fields. Ah! need I say, dear friend! that to the brim My heart was full; I made no vows, but VOWS 335 Were then made for me; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning A dedicated Spirit. On I walked From Book V. Books These mighty workmen of our later age, Who, with a broad highway, have overbridged The froward chaos of futurity, 350 Tamed to their bidding; they who have the skill 375 380 Pressed closely palm to palm, and to his Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, Across the watery vale, and shout again, Redoubled and redoubled, concourse wild Of silence came and baffled his best skill, Then sometimes, in that silence while he hung Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise Has carried far into his heart the voice Of mountain torrents; or the visible scene 385 Would enter unawares into his mind, With all its solemn imagery, its rocks, Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received fine us down, Like engines; when will their presumption learn, That in the unreasoning progress of the world 360 A wiser spirit is at work for us, A better eye than theirs, most prodigal Of blessings, and most studious of our good, Even in what seem our most unfruitful hours? There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs 365 And islands of Winander!-many a time At evening, when the earliest stars began To move along the edges of the hills, Rising or setting, would he stand alone Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake, 370 And there, with fingers interwoven, both. hands 1 dyed scarlet 400 That self-same village church; I see her sit (The throned Lady whom erewhile we hailed) On her green hill, forgetful of this Boy Who slumbers at her feet,-forgetful, too, Of all her silent neighborhood of graves, And listening only to the gladsome sounds 405 That, from the rural school ascending, play Beneath her and about her. May she long Behold a race of young ones like to those With whom I herded!- (easily, indeed, We might have fed upon a fatter soil 410 Of arts and letters-but be that forgiven) A race of real children; not too wise, fresh, |