Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/32

24 That he had seen this heap of turf before,

That it was not another grave, but one,

He had forgotten. He had lost his path,

As up the vale he came that afternoon,

Through fields which once had been well known to him.

And Oh! what joy the recollection now

Sent to his heart! he lifted up his eyes,

And looking round he thought that he perceiv'd

Strange alteration wrought on every side

Among the woods and fields, and that the rocks,

And the eternal hills, themselves were chang'd.

By this the Priest who down the field had come

Unseen by Leonard, at the church-yard gate

Stopp'd short, and thence, at leisure, limb by limb

He scann'd him with a gay complacency.

Aye, thought the Vicar, smiling to himself,

'Tis one of those who needs must leave the path

Of the world's business, to go wild alone:

His arms have a perpetual holiday,