the night,

Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied That anxious visitation;- moon and stars Were shining o'er my head. I was alone, And seemed to be a trouble to the peace That dwelt among them. Sometimes it befell

In these night wanderings, that a strong desire

O'erpowered my better reason, and the bird Which was the captive of another's toil 320 Became my prey; and when the deed was done

I heard among the solitary hills
Low breathings coming after me, and
sounds

Of undistinguishable motion, steps
Almost as silent as the turf they trod.

Nor less, when spring had warmed the
cultured Vale,

Moved we as plunderers where the mother

bird

Had in high places built her lodge; though

mean

Our object and inglorious, yet the end

Not with the mean and vulgar works of

man,

But with high objects, with enduring things

410

With life and nature - purifying thus
The elements of feeling and of thought,
And sanctifying, by such discipline,
Both pain and fear, until we recognise
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.
Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me
With stinted kindness. In November days,
When vapours rolling down the valley
made

A lonely scene more lonesome, among woods,

At noon and 'mid the calm of summer nights,

When, by the margin of the trembling lake,

420

Beneath the gloomy hills homeward I went In solitude, such intercourse was mine; Mine was it in the fields both day and night, And by the waters, all the summer long.

And in the frosty season, when the sun
Was set, and visible for many a mile
The cottage windows blazed through twi-
light gloom,

I heeded not their summons: happy time
It was indeed for all of us - for me
It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud
The village clock tolled six, - I wheeled
about,

430

Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng,

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 Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still

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

Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep.

Ye Presences of Nature in the sky 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

400

Were steeped in feeling; I was only then
Contented, when with bliss ineffable
I felt the sentiment of Being spread
O'er all that moves and all that seemeth
still;

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, And mighty depth of waters. Wonder not If high the transport, great the joy I felt, Communing in this sort through earth and

heaven

411

With every form of creature, as it looked
Towards the Uncreated with a countenance
Of adoration, with an eye of love.
One song they sang, and it was audible,
Most audible, then, when the fleshly ear,
O'ercome by humblest prelude of that strain,
Forgot her functions, and slept undisturbed.

420

If this be error, and another faith Find easier access to the pious mind, Yet were I grossly destitute of all Those human sentiments that make this earth

So dear, if I should fail with grateful voice To speak of you, ye mountains, and ye lakes And sounding cataracts, ye mists and winds That dwell among the hills where I was born.

If in my youth I have been pure in heart, If, mingling with the world, I am content With my own modest pleasures, and have lived

With God and Nature communing, removed

430

From little enmities and low desires
The gift is yours; if in these times of fear,
This melancholy waste of hopes o'erthrown,
If, 'mid indifference and apathy,
And wicked exultation when good men
On every side fall off, we know not how,
To selfishness, disguised in gentle names
Of peace and quiet and domestic love
Yet mingled not unwillingly with sneers
On visionary minds; if, in this time
Of dereliction and dismay, I yet
Despair not of our nature, but retain
A more than Roman confidence, a faith

440

60

Of College labours, of the Lecturer's

room

All studded round, as thick as chairs could stand,

With loyal students, faithful to their books,
Half-and-half idlers, hardy recusants,
And honest dunces of important days,
Examinations, when the man was weighed
As in a balance! of excessive hopes,
Tremblings withal and commendable fears,
Small jealousies, and triumphs good or
bad

70

Let others that know more speak as they know.

Such glory was but little sought by me, And little won. Yet from the first crude

days

Of settling time in this untried abode,
I was disturbed at times by prudent
thoughts,

Wishing to hope without a hope, some fears
About my future worldly maintenance,
And, more than all, a strangeness in the

mind,

80

A feeling that I was not for that hour,
Nor for that place. But wherefore be cast
down?

For (not to speak of Reason and her pure
Reflective acts to fix the moral law
Deep in the conscience, nor of Christian
Hope,

Bowing her head before her sister Faith
As one far mightier), hither I had come,
Bear witness Truth, endowed with holy
powers

And faculties, whether to work or feel.
Oft when the dazzling show no longer new
Had ceased to dazzle, ofttimes did I quit 91
My comrades, leave the crowd, buildings
and groves,

And as I paced alone the level fields
Far from those lovely sights and sounds
sublime

With which I had been conversant, the

mind

Drooped not; but there into herself return

ing,

With prompt rebound seemed fresh as here

tofore.

At least I more distinctly recognised
Her native instincts: let me dare to speak
A higher language, say that now I felt 100
What independent solaces were mine,
To mitigate the injurious sway of place
Or circumstance, how far soever changed