Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/309

BOOK X.] Of wild belief engrafted on their names

By false philosophy had caused the woe,

But a terrific reservoir of guilt

And ignorance filled up from age to age,

That could no longer hold its loathsome charge,

But burst and spread in deluge through the land.

And as the desert hath green spots, the sea

Small islands scattered amid stormy waves,

So that disastrous period did not want

Bright sprinklings of all human excellence,

To which the silver wands of saints in Heaven

Might point with rapturous joy. Yet not the less,

For those examples in no age surpassed

Of fortitude and energy and love,

And human nature faithful to herself

Under worst trials, was I driven to think

Of the glad times when first I traversed France

A youthful pilgrim; above all reviewed

That eventide, when under windows bright

With happy faces and with garlands hung,

And through a rainbow-arch that spanned the street,

Triumphal pomp for liberty confirmed,

I paced, a dear companion at my side,

The town of Arras, whence with promise high