Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/187

161 Their tribes, till we behold a spacious plain

Or grassy bottom, all, with little hills—

Their labour—covered, as a Lake with waves;

Thousands of Cities, in the desart place

Built up of life, and food, and means of life!

Nor wanting here, to entertain the thought,

Creatures, that in communities exist,

Less, as might seem, for general guardianship

Or through dependance upon mutual aid,

Than by participation of delight

And a strict love of fellowship, combined.

What other spirit can it be, that prompts

The gilded summer Flies to mix and weave

Their sports together in the solar beam,

Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy?

More obviously, the self-same influence rules

The feathered kinds; the Fieldfare's pensive flocks,

The cawing Rooks, and Sea-mews from afar,

Hovering above these inland Solitudes,

Unscattered by the wind, at whose loud call

Their voyage was begun: nor is its power

Unfelt among the sedentary Fowl

That seek yon Pool, and there prolong their stay