Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/214

188 And chambers of Transgression, now forlorn.

O, calm contented days, and peaceful nights!

Who, when such good can be obtained, would strive

To reconcile his Manhood to a couch,

Soft as may seem; but, under that disguise,

Stuffed with the thorny substance of the past,

For fixed annoyance; and full oft beset

With floating dreams, disconsolate and black,

The vapoury phantoms of futurity?

Within the soul a Faculty abides,

That with interpositions, which would hide

And darken, so can deal, that they become

Contingences of pomp; and serve to exalt

Her native brightness. As the ample Moon,

In the deep stillness of a summer even

Rising behind a thick and lofty Grove,

Burns like an unconsuming fire of light,

In the green trees; and, kindling on all sides

Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil

Into a substance glorious as her own,

Yea with her own incorporated, by power

Capacious and serene. Like power abides