Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/232

210 Look down upon them; the reposing clouds;

The wild brooks prattling from invisible haunts;

And old Helvellyn, conscious of the stir

Which animates this day their calm abode.

With deep devotion, Nature, did I feel,

In that enormous City's turbulent world

Of men and things, what benefit I owed

To thee, and those domains of rural peace,

Where to the sense of beauty first my heart

Was opened; tract more exquisitely fair

Than that famed paradise of ten thousand trees,

Or Gehol's matchless gardens, for delight

Of the Tartarian dynasty composed

(Beyond that mighty wall, not fabulous,

China's stupendous mound) by patient toil

Of myriads and boon nature's lavish help;

There, in a clime from widest empire chosen,

Fulfilling (could enchantment have done more?)

A sumptuous dream of flowery lawns, with domes

Of pleasure sprinkled over, shady dells

For eastern monasteries, sunny mounts

With temples crested, bridges, gondolas,

Rocks, dens, and groves of foliage taught to melt

Into each other their obsequious hues,