i 10 From a tumultuous ocean, trees and towers In that sequestered Valley may be seen Both silent and both motionless alike; Such the deep shelter that is there, and such The safeguard for repose and quietness.
115 Our Steeds remounted, and the summons given, With whip and spur we through the Chauntry1 flew In uncouth race, and left the cross-legged Knight And the Stone-abbot, and that single Wren Which one day sang so sweetly in the Nave
120 Of the old Church, that, though from recent Showers The earth was comfortless, and, touched by faint Internal breezes, sobbings of the place And respirations, from the roofless walls The shuddering ivy dripped large drops, yet still
125 So sweetly 'mid the gloom the invisible Bird Sang to herself, that there I could have made My dwelling- place, and lived for ever there To hear such music. Through the Walls we flew, And down the Valley, and, a circuit made
130 In wantonness0 of heart, through rough and smooth playfulness We scampered homewards. Oh, ye rocks and streams, And that still Spirit shed from evening air!
8. The stone circle at Swinside, on the lower Dud-Hawkshead. don River, mistakenly believed at the time to have 1. A chapel endowed for masses to be sung for the been a Druid temple. donor. 9. Fumess Abbey, some twenty miles south of
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THE PRELUDE, BOOK THIRTEENTH / 341
Even in this joyous time I sometimes felt
Your presence, when with slackened step we breathed2 135 Along the sides of the steep hills, or when,
Lighted by gleams of moonlight from the sea,
We beat with thundering hoofs the level sand.
Midway on long Winander's Eastern shore,
Within the crescent of a pleasant Bay, ho A Tavern3 stood, no homely-featured House, Primeval like its neighbouring Cottages; But 'twas a splendid place, the door beset With Chaises, Grooms, and Liveries,?and within Decanters, Glasses, and the blood-red Wine. 145 In ancient times, or ere the Hall was built
On the large Island,4 had this Dwelling been
More worthy of a Poet's love, a Hut
Proud of its one bright fire and sycamore shade.
But, though the rhymes were gone that once inscribed 150 The threshold, and large golden characters0 letters Spread o'er the spangled sign-board had dislodged The old Lion, and usurped his place in slight And mockery of the rustic Painter's hand, Yet to this hour the spot to me is dear 155 With all its foolish pomp. The garden lay Upon a slope surmounted by the plain Of a small Bowling-green: beneath us stood A grove, with gleams of water through the trees And over the tree-tops; nor did we want 160 Refreshment, strawberries, and mellow cream. There, while through half an afternoon we played On the smooth platform, whether skill prevailed Or happy blunder triumphed, bursts of glee Made all the mountains ring. But ere night-fall, 165 When in our pinnace0 we returned, at leisure small boat Over the shadowy Lake, and to the beach Of some small Island steered our course with one, The Minstrel of our Troop, and left him there, And rowed off gently, while he blew his flute 170 Alone upon the rock,?Oh then the calm And dead still water lay upon my mind Even with a weight of pleasure, and the sky, Never before so beautiful, sank down Into my heart, and held me like a dream! 175 Thus were my sympathies enlarged, and thus Daily the common range of visible things Grew dear to me: already I began To love the sun; a boy I loved the sun, Not as I since have loved him, as a pledge 180 And surety of our earthly life, a light Which we behold, and feel we are alive; Nor for his bounty to so many worlds,
2. Slowed to let the horses catch their breath. 4. The Hall on Belle Isle in Lake Windermere had 3. The White Lion at Bowness. been built in the early 1780s.
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34 2 / WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
But for this cause, that I had seen him lay
His beauty on the morning hills, had seen
The western mountain touch his setting orb,
In many a thoughtless hour, when, from excess
Of happiness, my blood appear'd to flow
For its own pleasure, and I breathed with joy;
And from like feelings, humble though intense,
To patriotic and domestic love
Analogous, the moon to me was dear;
For I would dream away my purposes,
Standing to gaze upon her while she hung
Midway between the hills, as if she knew
No other region; but belonged to thee,
Yea, appertained by a peculiar right
To thee, and thy grey huts,' thou one dear Vale!
