Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/149

BOOK V.] Of those glad respites, though a soft west wind

Ruffled the waters to the angler's wish

For a whole day together, have I lain

Down by thy side, O Derwent! murmuring stream,

On the hot stones, and in the glaring sun,

And there have read, devouring as I read,

Defrauding the day's glory, desperate!

Till with a sudden bound of smart reproach,

Such as an idler deals with in his shame,

I to the sport betook myself again.

A gracious spirit o'er this earth presides,

And o'er the heart of man: invisibly

It comes, to works of unreproved delight,

And tendency benign, directing those

Who care not, know not, think not what they do.

The tales that charm away the wakeful night

In Araby, romances; legends penned

For solace by dim light of monkish lamps;

Fictions, for ladies of their love, devised

By youthful squires; adventures endless, spun

By the dismantled warrior in old age,

Out of the bowels of those very schemes

In which his youth did first extravagate;

These spread like day, and something in the shape