Page:Poems and extracts - Wordsworth.djvu/31



Would we attain the happiest state, That is design'd us here No joy a rapture must create No grief beget despair.

No injury fierce anger raise, No honour tempt to pride No vain desires of empty praise Must in the soul abide.

No charms of youth or beauty move The constant settled breast; Who leaves a passage free to love, Shall let in all the rest.

Rh