Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/164

156 A life and soul to every mode of being

Inseparably link'd. While thus he creeps

From door to door, the Villagers in him

Behold a record which together binds

Past deeds and offices of charity

Else unremember'd, and so keeps alive

The kindly mood in hearts which lapse of years,

And that half-wisdom half-experience gives

Make slow to feel, and by sure steps resign

To selfishness and cold oblivous cares.

Among the farms and solitary huts

Hamlets, and thinly-scattered villages,

Where'er the aged Beggar takes his rounds,

The mild necessity of use compels

To acts of love; and habit does the work

Of reason, yet prepares that after joy

Which reason cherishes. And thus the soul,

By that sweet taste of pleasure unpursu'd