Page:The Recluse, Wordsworth, 1888.djvu/26

14 His guests, and make them jocund.—They are pleased,

But most of all the birds that haunt the flood

With the mild summons; inmates though they be

Of Winter's household, they keep festival

This day, who drooped, or seemed to droop, so long;

They show their pleasure, and shall I do less?

Happier of happy though I be, like them

I cannot take possession of the sky,

Mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there

One of a mighty multitude, whose way

Is a perpetual harmony and dance

Magnificent. Behold how with a grace

Of ceaseless motion, that might scarcely seem

Inferior to angelical, they prolong