Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/130

122 Yet sometimes when the secret cup

Of still and serious thought went round

It seem'd as if he drank it up,

He felt with spirit so profound.

—Thou soul of God's best earthly mould,

Thou happy soul, and can it be

That these two words of glittering gold

Are all that must remain of thee?