Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/350

328 The female and her garments vexed and tossed

By the strong wind. When, in the blessed hours

Of early love, the loved one at my side,

I roamed, in daily presence of this scene,

Upon the naked pool and dreary crags,

And on the melancholy beacon, fell

A spirit of pleasure and youth's golden gleam;

And think ye not with radiance more sublime

For these remembrances, and for the power

They had left behind? So feeling comes in aid

Of feeling, and diversity of strength

Attends us, if but once we have been strong.

Oh! mystery of man, from what a depth

Proceed thy honours. I am lost, but see

In simple childhood something of the base

On which thy greatness stands; but this I feel,

That from thyself it comes, that thou must give,

Else never canst receive. The days gone by

Return upon me almost from the dawn

Of life: the hiding-places of man's power

Open; I would approach them, but they close.

I see by glimpses now; when age comes on,

May scarcely see at all; and I would give,

While yet we may, as far as words can give,