Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 1, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/146

94 The NIGHTINGALE.

Written in April, 1798.

No cloud, no reliquerelic [sic] of the sunken day

Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip

Of sullen Light, no obscure trembling hues.

Come, we will rest on this old mossy Bridge!

You see the glimmer of the stream beneath,

But hear no murmuring: it flows silently

O'er its soft bed of verdure. All is still,

A balmy night! and tho' the stars be dim,

Yet let us think upon the vernal showers

That gladden the green earth, and we shall find

A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.