Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/286

278 When Thou hadst quitted Esthwaite's pleasant shore,

And taken thy first leave of those green hills

And rocks that were the play-ground of thy Youth,

Year followed year, my Brother, and we two,

Conversing not, knew little in what mould

Each other's minds were fashioned; and at length,

When once again we met in Grasmere Vale,

Between us there was little other bond

Than common feelings of fraternal love.

But thou, a school-boy, to the sea hadst carried

Undying recollections; Nature there

Was with thee; she, who loved us both, she still

Was with thee; and even so didst thou become

A silent Poet; from the solitude

Of the vast sea didst bring a watchful heart

Still couchant, an inevitable ear,

And an eye practised like a blind man's touch.

—Back to the joyless Ocean thou art gone;

And now I call the path-way by thy name,

And love the fir-grove with a perfect love.

Thither do I withdraw when cloudless suns

Shine hot, or wind blows troublesome and strong:

And there I sit at evening, when the steep

Of Silver-how, and Grasmere's placid Lake,