Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/145

BOOK V.] Would enter unawares into his mind,

With all its solemn imagery, its rocks,

Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received

Into the bosom of the steady lake.

This Boy was taken from his mates, and died

In childhood, ere he was full twelve years old.

Fair is the spot, most beautiful the vale

Where he was born; the grassy churchyard hangs

Upon a slope above the village school,

And through that churchyard when my way has led

On summer evenings, I believe that there

A long half hour together I have stood

Mute, looking at the grave in which he lies!

Even now appears before the mind's clear eye

That self-same village church; I see her sit

(The throned Lady whom erewhile we hailed)

On her green hill, forgetful of this Boy

Who slumbers at her feet,—forgetful, too,

Of all her silent neighbourhood of graves,

And listening only to the gladsome sounds

That, from the rural school ascending, play

Beneath her and about her. May she long

Behold a race of young ones like to those

With whom I herded!—(easily, indeed,