Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife: And hark! how blithe the throstle sings! 15 Come forth into the light of things, She has a world of ready wealth, One impulse from a vernal wood 25 Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:- Enough of Science and of Art; 30 Close up those barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives. THREE YEARS SHE GREW (1799) Three years she grew in sun and shower, This Child I to myself will take; Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me 10 In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain. She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn 15 Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, The floating clouds their state shall lend 20 To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm, Grace that shall mold the Maiden's form 25 The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, 30 Shall pass into her face. And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give 35 While she and I together live Here in this happy dell." Thus Nature spake The work was done She died, and left to me 40 This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be. SHE DWELT AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS (1799) She dwelt among the untrodden ways A Maid whom there were none to praise, 5 A violet by a mossy stone 10 She lived unknown, and few could know But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me! MICHAEL A Pastoral Poem (1800) If from the public way you turn your steps Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll, You will suppose that with an upright path Your feet must struggle; in such bold ascent 5 The pastoral mountains front you, face to face. But, courage! for around that boisterous brook The mountains have all opened out themselves, And made a hidden valley of their own. No habitation can be seen; but they 10 Who journey thither find themselves alone With a few sheep, with rocks and stones, and kites That overhead are sailing in the sky. It is in truth an utter solitude; Nor should I have made mention of this Dell Or for the summer shade. It was the first 25 For their own sakes, but for the fields and hills Where was their occupation and abode. And hence this Tale, while I was yet a Boy 30 Of natural objects, led me on to feel For passions that were not my own, and think On man, the heart of man, and human life. 35 Homely and rude, I will relate the same 40 Upon the forest-side in Grasmere Vale Of an unusual strength: his mind was keen, Hence had he learned the meaning of all winds, The Shepherd, at such warning, of his flock And grossly that man errs, who should suppose 65 Fields, where with cheerful spirits he had breathed The common air; hills, which with vigorous step Of hardship, skill or courage, joy or fear; Those fields, those hills-what could they less? had laid 75 Strong hold on his affections, were to him A pleasurable feeling of blind love, The pleasure which there is in life itself. |