Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/135

75 From thickly-glittering spires the matin bell

Calling the woodman from his desert cell,

A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,

Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass;

Slow swells the service o'er the water born,

While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn.

Now, passing Urseren's open vale serene,

Her quiet streams, and hills of downy green,

Plunge with the Russ embrowned by Terror's breath,

Where danger roofs the narrow walks of death;

By floods, that, thundering from their dizzy height,

Swell more gigantic on the stedfast sight;

Black drizzling crags, that beaten by the din,

Vibrate, as if a voice complained within;

Bare steeps, where Desolation stalks afraid,

Unstedfast, by a blasted yew upstayed;

By cells whose image, trembling as he prays,

Awe-struck, the kneeling peasant scarce surveys;