Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/384

362 No other can divide with thee this work:

No secondary hand can intervene

To fashion this ability; 'tis thine,

The prime and vital principle is thine

In the recesses of thy nature, far

From any reach of outward fellowship,

Else is not thine at all. But joy to him,

Oh, joy to him who here hath sown, hath laid

Here, the foundation of his future years!

For all that friendship, all that love can do,

All that a darling countenance can look

Or dear voice utter, to complete the man,

Perfect him, made imperfect in himself,

All shall be his: and he whose soul hath risen

Up to the height of feeling intellect

Shall want no humbler tenderness; his heart

Be tender as a nursing mother's heart;

Of female softness shall his life be full,

Of humble cares and delicate desires,

Mild interests and gentlest sympathies.

Child of my parents! Sister of my soul!

Thanks in sincerest verse have been elsewhere

Poured out for all the early tenderness

Which I from thee imbibed: and 'tis most true