Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/262

240 Last look, to make the best amends he may:

So have we lingered. Now we start afresh

With courage, and new hope risen on our toil.

Fair greetings to this shapeless eagerness,

Whene'er it comes! needful in work so long,

Thrice needful to the argument which now

Awaits us! Oh, how much unlike the past!

Free as a colt at pasture on the hill,

I ranged at large, through London's wide domain,

Month after month. Obscurely did I live,

Not seeking frequent intercourse with men,

By literature, or elegance, or rank,

Distinguished. Scarcely was a year thus spent

Ere I forsook the crowded solitude,

With less regret for its luxurious pomp,

And all the nicely-guarded shows of art,

Than for the humble book-stalls in the streets,

Exposed to eye and hand where'er I turned.

France lured me forth; the realm that I had crossed

So lately, journeying toward the snow-clad Alps.

But now, relinquishing the scrip and staff,

And all enjoyment which the summer sun

Sheds round the steps of those who meet the day