Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/121

 BOOK THE THIRD.

DESPONDENCY.

humming Bee—a little tinkling Rill—

A pair of Falcons, wheeling on the wing,

In clamorous agitation, round the crest

Of a tall rock, their airy Citadel—

By each and all of these the pensive ear

Was greeted, in the silence that ensued,

When through the Cottage-threshold we had passed,

And, deep within that lonesome Valley, stood

Once more, beneath the concave of the blue

And cloudless sky.—Anon! exclaimed our Host,

Triumphantly dispersing with the taunt