Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/149

123 Depressed I hear, how faithless is the voice

Which those most blissful days reverberate.

What special record can, or need be given

To rules and habits, whereby much was done

But all within the sphere of little things?

Of humble, though, to us, important cares,

And precious interests! Smoothly did our life

Advance, not swerving from the path prescribed;

Her annual, her diurnal round alike

Maintained with faithful care. And you divine

The worst effects which our condition saw

If you imagine changes slowly wrought,

And in their progress imperceptible,

Not wished for, sometimes noticed with a sigh,

(Whate'er of good or lovely they might bring)

Sighs of regret, for the familiar good,

And loveliness endeared—which they removed.

Seven years of occupation undisturbed

Established seemingly a right to hold

That happiness; and use and habit gave

To what an alien spirit had acquired

A patrimonial sanctity. And thus,