Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/177

169 A CHARACTER,

In the antithetical Manner.

I marvel how Nature could ever find space

For the weight and the levity seen in his face:

There's thought and no thought, and there's paleness and bloom,

And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom.

There's weakness, and strength both redundant and vain;

Such strength, as if ever affliction and pain

Could pierce through a temper that's soft to disease,

Would be rational peace—a philosopher's ease.

There's indifference, alike when he fails and succeeds,

And attention full ten times as much as there needs,

Pride where there's no envy, there's so much of joy;

And mildness, and spirit both forward and coy.