Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/193

 BOOK SEVENTH.

RESIDENCE IN LONDON.

changeful years have vanished since I first

Poured out (saluted by that quickening breeze

Which met me issuing from the City's (7) walls)

A glad preamble to this Verse: I sang

Aloud, with fervour irresistible

Of short-lived transport, like a torrent bursting,

From a black thunder-cloud, down Scafell's side

To rush and disappear. But soon broke forth

(So willed the Muse) a less impetuous stream,

That flowed awhile with unabating strength,

Then stopped for years; not audible again

Before last primrose-time. Belovèd Friend!

The assurance which then cheered some heavy thoughts

On thy departure to a foreign land

Has failed; too slowly moves the promised work.