Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/202

194 A pittance from the dead unfeeling lake

That knew not of his wants. I will not say

What thoughts immediately were ours, nor how

The happy idleness of that sweet morn,

With all its lovely images, was chang'd

To serious musing and to self-reproach.

Nor did we fail to see within ourselves

What need there is to be reserv'd in speech,

And temper all our thoughts with charity.

—Therefore, unwilling to forget that day,

My Friend, Myself, and She who then receiv'd

The same admonishment, have call'd the place

By a memorial name, uncouth indeed

As e'er by Mariner was giv'n to Bay

Or Foreland on a new-discover'd coast,

And, is the Name it bears.