Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/12

4 Yet, dream and vision as thou art,

I bless thee with a human heart:

God shield thee to thy latest years!

I neither know thee nor thy peers;

And yet my eyes are filled with tears.

With earnest feeling I shall pray

For thee when I am far away:

For never saw I mien, or face,

In which more plainly I could trace

Benignity and home-bred sense

Ripening in perfect innocence.

Here, scattered like a random seed,

Remote from men, Thou dost not need

The embarrassed look of shy distress,

And maidenly shamefacedness:

Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear

The freedom of a Mountaineer.

A face with gladness overspread!

Sweet looks, by human kindness bred!

And seemliness complete, that sways

Thy courtesies, about thee plays;

With no restraint, but such as springs

From quick and eager visitings