Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/392

370 After the perils of his moonlight ride,

Near the loud waterfall; or her who sate

In misery near the miserable Thorn;

When thou dost to that summer turn thy thoughts,

And hast before thee all which then we were,

To thee, in memory of that happiness,

It will be known, by thee at least, my Friend!

Felt, that the history of a Poet's mind

Is labour not unworthy of regard:

To thee the work shall justify itself.

The last and later portions of this gift

Have been prepared, not with the buoyant spirits

That were our daily portion when we first

Together wantoned in wild Poesy,

But, under pressure of a private grief,

Keen and enduring, which the mind and heart,

That in this meditative history

Have been laid open, needs must make me feel

More deeply, yet enable me to bear

More firmly; and a comfort now hath risen

From hope that thou art near, and wilt be soon

Restored to us in renovated health;

When, after the first mingling of our tears,