Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/179

BOOK VI.] That very day,

From a bare ridge we also first beheld

Unveiled the summit of Mont Blanc, and grieved

To have a soulless image on the eye

That had usurped upon a living thought

That never more could be. The wondrous Vale

Of Chamouny stretched far below, and soon

With its dumb cataracts and streams of ice,

A motionless array of mighty waves,

Five rivers broad and vast, made rich amends,

And reconciled us to realities;

There small birds warble from the leafy trees,

The eagle soars high in the element,

There doth the reaper bind the yellow sheaf,

The maiden spread the haycock in the sun,

While Winter like a well-tamed lion walks,

Descending from the mountain to make sport

Among the cottages by beds of flowers.

Whate'er in this wide circuit we beheld,

Or heard, was fitted to our unripe state

Of intellect and heart. With such a book

Before our eyes, we could not choose but read

Lessons of genuine brotherhood, the plain

And universal reason of mankind,