Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/102

80 A creek in the vast sea; for, all degrees

And shapes of spurious fame and short-lived praise

Here sate in state, and fed with daily alms

Retainers won away from solid good;

And here was Labour, his own bond-slave; Hope,

That never set the pains against the prize;

Idleness halting with his weary clog,

And poor misguided Shame, and witless Fear,

And simple Pleasure foraging for Death;

Honour misplaced, and Dignity astray;

Feuds, factions, flatteries, enmity, and guile

Murmuring submission, and bald government,

(The idol weak as the idolator,)

And Decency and Custom starving Truth,

And blind Authority beating with his staff

The child that might have led him; Emptiness

Followed as of good omen, and meek Worth

Left to herself unheard of and unknown.

Of these and other kindred notices

I cannot say what portion is in truth

The naked recollection of that time,

And what may rather have been called to life

By after-meditation. But delight

That, in an easy temper lulled asleep,