Page:The Recluse, Wordsworth, 1888.djvu/56

44 —Such is our wealth! O Vale of Peace we are

And must be, with God's will, a happy Band.

Yet 'tis not to enjoy that we exist,

For that end only; something must be done:

I must not walk in unreproved delight

These narrow bounds, and think of nothing more,

No duty that looks further, and no care.

Each Being has his office, lowly some

And common, yet all worthy if fulfilled

With zeal, acknowledgment that with the gift

Keeps pace a harvest answering to the seed.

Of ill-advised Ambition and of Pride

I would stand clear, but yet to me I feel

That an internal brightness is vouchsafed

That must not die, that must not pass away.

Why does this inward lustre fondly seek