Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/170

148 Of greatness, love, and beauty. Not alone,

Ah! surely not in singleness of heart

Should I have seen the light of evening fade

From smooth Cam's silent waters: had we met,

Even at that early time, needs must I trust

In the belief, that my maturer age,

My calmer habits, and more steady voice,

Would with an influence benign have soothed,

Or chased away, the airy wretchedness

That battened on thy youth. But thou hast trod

A march of glory, which doth put to shame

These vain regrets; health suffers in thee, else

Such grief for thee would be the weakest thought

That ever harboured in the breast of man.

A passing word erewhile did lightly touch

On wanderings of my own, that now embraced

With livelier hope a region wider far.

When the third summer freed us from restraint,

A youthful friend, he too a mountaineer,

Not slow to share my wishes, took his staff,

And sallying forth, we journeyed side by side,

Bound to the distant Alps. A hardy slight

Did this unprecedented course imply