Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/360

300 The same whom in my School-boy days

I listen'd to; that Cry

Which made me look a thousand ways;

In bush, and tree, and sky.

To seek thee did I often rove

Through woods and on the green;

And thou wert still a hope, a love;

Still long'd for, never seen!

And I can listen to thee yet;

Can lie upon the plain

And listen, till I do beget

That golden time again.

O blessed Bird! the earth we pace

Again appears to be

An unsubstantial, faery place;

That is fit home for Thee!