Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/204

178 Acknowledge, then, that whether by the side

Of his poor hut, or on the mountain top,

Or in the cultured field, a Man like this

(Take from him what you will upon the score

Of ignorance or illusion) lives and breathes

For noble purposes of mind: his heart

Beats to the heroic song of ancient days;

His eye distinguishes, his soul creates.

And those Illusions, which excite the scorn

Or move the pity of unthinking minds,

Are they not mainly outward Ministers

Of inward Conscience? with whose service charged

They come and go, appear and disappear;

Diverting evil purposes, remorse

Awakening, chastening an intemperate grief,

Or pride of heart abating: and, whene'er

For less important ends those Phantoms move,

Who would forbid them, if their presence serve,

Among wild mountains and unpeopled heaths,

Filling a space else vacant, to exalt

The forms of Nature, and enlarge her powers?

Once more to distant Ages of the world