Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/32

6 A market-village, seated in a tract

Of mountains, where my school-day time was pass'd,

One room he owned, the fifth part of a house,

A place to which he drew, from time to time,

And found a kind of home or harbour there.

He loved me; from a swarm of rosy Boys

Singled out me, as he in sport would say,

For my grave looks—too thoughtful for my years.

As I grew up it was my best delight

To be his chosen Comrade. Many a time,

On holidays, we wandered through the woods,

A pair of random travellers; we sate—

We walked; he pleas'd me with his sweet discourse

Of things which he had seen; and often touch'd

Abstrusest matter, reasonings of the mind

Turned inward; or at my request he sang

Old songs—the product of his native hills;

A skilful distribution of sweet sounds,

Feeding the soul, and eagerly imbibed

As cool refreshing Water, by the care

Of the industrious husbandman, diffused

Through a parched meadow-ground, in time of drought.