Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/141

133 Motley accoutrements! of power to smile

At thorns, and brakes, and brambles, and, in truth,

More ragged than need was. Among the woods,

And o'er the pathless rocks, I forc'd my way

Until, at length, I came to one dear nook

Unvisited, where not a broken bough

Droop'd with its wither'd leaves, ungracious sign

Of devastation, but the hazels rose

Tall and erect with milk-white clusters hung,

A virgin scene!—A little while I stood,

Breathing with such suppression of the heart

As joy delights in; and with wise restraint

Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed

The banquet, or beneath the trees I sate

Among the flowers, and with the flowers I play'd;

A temper known to those, who, after long

And weary expectation, have been bless'd

With sudden happiness beyond all hope.—

—Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves

The violets of five seasons re-appear