Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/306

280 These elements of virtue, that declare

The native grandeur of the human Soul,

Are oft-times not unprofitably shewn

In the perverseness of a selfish course:

Truth every day exemplified, no less

In the grey cottage by the murmuring stream

Than the fantastic Conqueror's roving camp,

Or in the factious Senate, unappalled

While merciless proscription ebbs and flows.

—There," said the Vicar pointing as he spake,

"A woman rests in peace; surpassed by few

In power of mind, and eloquent discourse.

Tall was her stature; her complexion dark

And saturnine; her port erect, her head

Not absolutely raised, as if to hold

Converse with heaven, nor yet depressed tow'rds earth,

But in projection carried, as she walked

For ever musing. Sunken were her eyes;

Wrinkled and furrowed with habitual thought

Was her broad forehead; like the brow of One

Whose visual nerve shrinks from a painful glare

Of overpowering light.—While yet a Child,

She, mid the humble Flowerets of the vale,