Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/198

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IV.

A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,

A rude and natural causeway, interpos'd

Between the water and a winding slope

Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore

Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy.

And there, myself and two beloved Friends,

One calm September morning, ere the mist

Had altogether yielded to the sun,

Saunter'd on this retir'd and difficult way.

——Ill suits the road with one in haste, but we

Play'd with our time; and, as we stroll'd along,

It was our occupation to observe

Such objects as the waves had toss'd ashore,