Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/270

262 With which it looked on this delightful day

Were native to the summer.—Up the brook

I roamed in the confusion of my heart,

Alive to all things and forgetting all.

At length I to a sudden turning came

In this continuous glen, where down a rock

The stream, so ardent in its course before,

Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all

Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice

Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the Lamb,

The Shepherd's Dog, the Linnet and the Thrush

Vied with this Waterfall, and made a song

Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild growth

Or like some natural produce of the air,

That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here;

But 'twas the foliage of the rocks, the birch,

The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn,

With hanging islands of resplendent furze:

And on a summit, distant a short space,

By any who should look beyond the dell,

A single mountain Cottage might be seen.

I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said,

"Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook,

My, I will dedicate to thee."