Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/45

[BOOK I. Did summon us in his delightful round.

We were a noisy crew; the sun in heaven

Beheld not vales more beautiful than ours;

Nor saw a band in happiness and joy

Richer, or worthier of the ground they trod.

I could record with no reluctant voice

The woods of autumn, and their hazel bowers

With milk-white clusters hung; the rod and line,

True symbol of hope's foolishness, whose strong

And unreproved enchantment led us on

By rocks and pools shut out from every star,

All the green summer, to forlorn cascades

Among the windings hid of mountain brooks.

—Unfading recollections! at this hour

The heart is almost mine with which I felt,

From some hill-top on sunny afternoons,

The paper kite high among fleecy clouds

Pull at her rein like an impetuous courser;

Or, from the meadows sent on gusty days,

Beheld her breast the wind, then suddenly

Dashed headlong, and rejected by the storm.

Ye lowly cottages wherein we dwelt,

A ministration of your own was yours;