100

Of present pleasure, but with pleasing A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought,

thoughts

That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope, 65
Though changed, no doubt, from what
I was when first

I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the
sides

That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.-That time is
past,

And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this 85
Faint I, nor mourn, nor murmur; other
gifts

Have followed; for such loss, I would
believe,

Abundant recompense.

learned

The language of my former heart, and
read

My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once, 120
My dear, dear sister! and this prayer I
make,

Knowing that Nature never did betray
For I have The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to

To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing often-
times

90

The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample

power

To chasten and subdue. And I have felt

A presence that disturbs me with the
joy

Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime, 95
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting

suns,

And the round ocean and the living air,

And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;

The village clock tolled six,-I wheeled
about,

Proud and exulting like an untired horse
That cares not for his home. All shod

with steel,

We hissed along the polished ice in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase 435
And woodland pleasures,-the resounding
horn,

But now, relinquishing the scrip and staff,
And all enjoyment which the summer sun
Sheds round the steps of those who meet
the day

With motion constant as his own, I went
Prepared to sojourn in a pleasant town, 40
Washed by the current of the stately Loire.
Through Paris lay my readiest course,
and there

The pack loud chiming, and the hunted Sojourning a few days, I visited
hare.

So through the darkness and the cold we flew,

The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining back upon my heels,
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me—even as if the earth had

rolled

With visible motion her diurnal round! 460 Behind me did they stretch in solemn train,

Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched

In haste, each spot of old or recent fame.

Where silent zephyrs sported with the dust

I stood 'mid those concussions, unconcerned,

Tranquil almost, and careless as a flower Glassed in a green-house, or a parlor shrub

That spreads its leaves in unmolested peace,

While every bush and tree, the country through,

Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep. Is shaking to the roots.

90