Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/196

136 "Thou Eglantine, whose arch so proudly towers,

(Even like a rainbow spanning half the vale)

Thou one fair shrub, oh! shed thy flowers,

And stir not in the gale.

For thus to see thee nodding in the air,—

To see thy arch thus stretch and bend,

Thus rise and thus descend,—

Disturbs me, till the sight is more than I can bear."

The Man who makes this feverish complaint

Is one of giant stature, who could dance

Equipped from head to foot in iron mail.

Ah gentle Love! if ever thought was thine

To store up kindred hours for me, thy face

Turn from me, gentle Love! nor let me walk

Within the sound of Emma's voice, or know

Such happiness as I have known to-day.