Page:Peter Bell (Wordsworth).djvu/26

10 Go—but the world's a sleepy world

And 'tis, I fear, an age too late;

Take with you some ambitious Youth,

For I myself, in very truth,

Am all unfit to be your mate.

Long have I lov'd what I behold,

The night that calms, the day that cheers:

The common growth of mother earth

Suffices me—her tears, her mirth,

Her humblest mirth and tears.

The dragon's wing, the magic ring,

I shall not covet for my dower,

If I along that lowly way

With sympathetic heart may stray

And with a soul of power.