Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/165

139 May be divined—perhaps it hath been said:—

But spare your pity, if there be in me

Aught that deserves respect: for I exist—

Within myself—not comfortless.—The tenor

Which my life holds, he readily may conceive

Whoe'er hath stood to watch a mountain Brook

In some still passage of its course, and seen,

Within the depths of its capacious breast,

Inverted trees, and rocks, and azure sky;

And, on its glassy surface, specks of foam,

And conglobated bubbles undissolved,

Numerous as stars; that, by their onward lapse,

Betray to sight the motion of the stream,

Else imperceptible; meanwhile, is heard

Perchance, a roar or murmur; and the sound

Though soothing, and the little floating isles

Though beautiful, are both by Nature charged

With the same pensive office; and make known

Through what perplexing labyrinths, abrupt

Precipitations, and untoward straits,

The earth-born wanderer hath passed; and quickly,

That respite o'er, like traverses and toils