Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/111

BOOK IV.] In the dark summit of the waving tree

She rocked with every impulse of the breeze.

Among the favourites whom it pleased me well

To see again, was one by ancient right

Our inmate, a rough terrier of the hills;

By birth and call of nature pre-ordained

To hunt the badger and unearth the fox

Among the impervious crags, but having been

From youth our own adopted, he had passed

Into a gentler service. And when first

The boyish spirit flagged, and day by day

Along my veins I kindled with the stir,

The fermentation, and the vernal heat

Of poesy, affecting private shades

Like a sick Lover, then this dog was used

To watch me, an attendant and a friend,

Obsequious to my steps early and late,

Though often of such dilatory walk

Tired, and uneasy at the halts I made.

A hundred times when, roving high and low,

I have been harassed with the toil of verse,

Much pains and little progress, and at once

Some lovely Image in the song rose up

Full-formed, like Venus rising from the sea;