"Twas all in vain, a useless matter, - No word to any man he utters, XV. I WANDERED lonely as a Cloud That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills, A host of golden Daffodils; Beside the Lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine They stretched in never-ending line Ten thousand saw I at a glance, The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed and gazed- but little thought - What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft when on my couch I lie They flash upon that inward eye And then my heart with pleasure fills, XVI. THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN. At the corner of Wood-street, when daylight appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the Bird. 'Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside. Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, Down which she so often has tripped with her pail; And a single small Cottage, a nest like a dove's, The one only Dwelling on earth that she loves. She looks, and her Heart is in heaven: but they fade, XVII. POWER OF MUSIC. AN Orpheus! an Orpheus! —yes, Faith may grow bold, And take to herself all the wonders of old; Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name. His station is there; and he works on the crowd, What an eager assembly! what an empire is this! The weary have life, and the hungry have bliss ; The mourner is cheered, and the anxious have rest ; And the guilt-burthened soul is no longer opprest. |