Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/309

283 Thus all was re-established, and a pile

Constructed, that sufficed for every end,

Save the contentment of the Builder's mind;

A mind by nature indisposed to aught

So placid, so inactive, as content;

A Mind intolerant of lasting peace,

And cherishing the pang which it deplored.

Dread life of conflict! which I oft compared

To the agitation of a brook that runs

Down rocky mountains—buried now and lost

In silent pools, unfathomably deep;—

Now, in a moment, starting forth again

With violence, and proud of its escape;—

Until it sink once more, by slow degrees,

Or instantly, into as dark repose.

A sudden illness seized her in the strength

Of life's autumnal season.—Shall I tell

How on her bed of death the Matron lay,

To Providence submissive, so she thought;

But fretted, vexed, and wrought upon—almost

To anger, by the malady, that griped