Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/227

 BOOK THE FIFTH.

THE PASTOR.

deep Valley, with thy one rude House,

And its small lot of life-supporting fields,

And guardian rocks!—With unreverted eyes

I cannot pass thy bounds, attractive Seat!

To the still influx of the morning light

Open, and day's pure chearfulness, but veiled

From human observation, as if yet

Primæval Forests wrapped thee round with dark

Impenetrable shade; once more farewell

Majestic Circuit, beautiful Abyss,

By Nature destined from the birth of things

For quietness profound!