Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/60

34 A momentary pleasure, never marked

By reason, barren of all future good.

But we have known that there is often found

In mournful thoughts, and always might be found,

A power to virtue friendly; were't not so,

I am a Dreamer among men, indeed

An idle Dreamer! 'Tis a common Tale,

An ordinary sorrow of Man's life,

A tale of silent suffering, hardly clothed

In bodily form.—But, without further bidding,

I will proceed.—

While thus it fared with them,

To whom this Cottage, till those hapless years,

Had been a blessed home, it was my chance

To travel in a Country far remote.

And glad I was, when, halting by yon gate

That leads from the green lane, once more I saw

These lofty elm-trees. Long I did not rest:

With many pleasant thoughts I chear'd my way

O'er the flat Common.—Having reached the door

I knock'd,—and, when I entered with the hope

Of usual greeting, Margaret looked at me

A little while; then turn'd her head away