Page:The Recluse, Wordsworth, 1888.djvu/23

Rh A whole without dependence or defect,

Made for itself, and happy in itself,

Perfect contentment, Unity entire.

Bleak season was it, turbulent and bleak,

When hitherward we journeyed side by side

Through burst of sunshine and through flying showers;

Paced the long vales—how long they were—and yet

How fast that length of way was left behind,

Wensley's rich Vale, and Sedbergh's naked heights.

The frosty wind, as if to make amends

For its keen breath, was aiding to our steps,

And drove us onward like two ships at sea,

Or like two birds, companions in mid-air,

Parted and reunited by the blast.

Stern was the face of nature; we rejoiced