Page:Poems and extracts - Wordsworth.djvu/70

 Descending angels bless thy train The virtues of the sage, and swain; Plain innocence in white array'd, Before thee lifts her fearless head: Religions beams around thee shine, And clear thy glooms with light divine: About thee sports sweet Liberty; And wrapt Urania sings to thee.

Oh! let me pierce thy secret cell! And in thy deep recesses dwell. Perhaps from Norwood's oak-clad hill. When meditation has her fill, I just may cast my careless eyes Where London's spiry turrets rise; Think of its crimes, its cares, its pains, Then shield me in the woods again.

Thomson. Rh