Page:The Prelude, Wordsworth, 1850.djvu/67

BOOK II.] The mind lay open to a more exact

And close communion. Many are our joys

In youth, but oh! what happiness to live

When every hour brings palpable access

Of knowledge, when all knowledge is delight,

And sorrow is not there! The seasons came,

And every season wheresoe'er I moved

Unfolded transitory qualities,

Which, but for this most watchful power of love,

Had been neglected; left a register

Of permanent relations, else unknown.

Hence life, and change, and beauty, solitude

More active even than "best society"—

Society made sweet as solitude

By silent inobtrusive sympathies,

And gentle agitations of the mind

From manifold distinctions, difference

Perceived in things, where, to the unwatchful eye,

No difference is, and hence, from the same source,

Sublimer joy; for I would walk alone,

Under the quiet stars, and at that time

Have felt whate'er there is of power in sound

To breathe an elevated mood, by form

Or image unprofaned; and I would stand,

If the night blackened with a coming storm,