Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/143

135 "My days, my Friend, are almost gone,

My life has been approved,

And many love me; but by none

Am I enough beloved."

"Now both himself and me he wrongs,

The man who thus complains!

I live and sing my idle songs

Upon these happy plains,

"And, Matthew, for thy Children dead

I'll be a son to thee!"

At this he grasped my hand, and said

"Alas! that cannot be."

We rose up from the fountain-side;

And down the smooth descent

Of the green sheep-track did we glide;

And through the wood we went;

And, ere we came to Leonard's Rock,

He sang those witty rhymes

About the crazy old church clock,

And the bewildered chimes.