Her titles and her honors; now believing, Now disbelieving; endlessly perplexed With impulse, motive, right and wrong, the ground

300 Of obligation, what the rule and whence The sanction; till, demanding formal proof,

And seeking it in everything, I lost

All feeling of conviction, and, in fine, Sick, wearied out with contrarieties, 305 Yielded up moral questions in despair.

Then it wasThanks to the bounteous Giver of all

good!

335 That the beloved sister1 in whose sight Those days were passed, now speaking in a voice

Of sudden admonition-like a brook
That did but cross a lonely road, and now
Is seen, heard, felt, and caught at every
turn,

340 Companion never lost through many a league

Maintained for me a saving intercourse With my true self; for, though bedimmed and changed

In a calm hour to kiss the pebbly shore, Not mute, and then retire, fearing no

storm;

To interpose the covert of your shades, And you, ye groves, whose ministry it is Even as a sleep, between the heart of man And outward troubles, between man himself,

Not seldom, and his own uneasy heart: Oh! that I had a music and a voice 30 Harmonious as your own, that I might tell What ye have done for me. The morning shines,

Nor heedeth Man's perverseness; Spring returns,

I saw the Spring return, and could rejoice, In common with the children of her love, 35 Piping on boughs, or sporting on fresh fields,

Or boldly seeking pleasure nearer heaven On wings that navigate cerulean skies. So neither were complacency, nor peace, Nor tender yearnings, wanting for my good 40 Through these distracted times; in Nature still

Glorying, I found a counterpoise in her, Which, when the spirit of evil reached its height,

Maintained for me a secret happiness.

Before I was called forth 175 From the retirement of my native hills, I loved whate'er I saw: nor lightly loved, But most intensely; never dreamt of aught

More grand, more fair, more exquisitely framed

Than those few nooks to which my happy feet

180 Were limited. I had not at that time

Lived long enough, nor in the least survived
The first diviner influence of this world,
As it appears to unaccustomed eyes.
Worshipping then among the depth of
things,

185 As piety ordained; could I submit

To measured admiration, or to aught
That should preclude humility and love?
I felt, observed, and pondered; did not
judge,

Yea, never thought of judging; with the
gift

190 Of all this glory filled and satisfied. And afterwards, when through the gorgeous Alps

Roaming, I carried with me the same heart:
In truth, the degradation-howsoe'er
Induced, effect, in whatsoe'er degree,
195 Of custom that prepares a partial scale

In which the little oft outweighs the great;
Or any other cause that hath been named;
Or lastly, aggravated by the times
And their impassioned sounds, which well
might make

200 The milder minstrelsies of rural scenes
Inaudible-was transient; I had known
Too forcibly, too early in my life,
Visitings of imaginative power

For this to last: I shook the habit off 205 Entirely and forever, and again

In Nature's presence stood, as now I stand,
A sensitive being, a creative soul.

BOOK XIII. IMAGINATION AND TASTE, HOW IMPAIRED AND RESTORED(Concluded)

From Nature doth emotion come; and moods

Of calmness equally are Nature's gift:
This is her glory; these two attributes
Are sister horns that constitute her
strength.

5 Hence Genius, born to thrive by interchange

Of peace and excitation, finds in her

His best and purest friend; from her

receives

That energy by which he seeks the truth, From her that happy stillness of the mind 10 Which fits him to receive it when unsought.

Such benefit the humblest intellects Partake of, each in their degree; 'tis mine

To speak what I myself have known and felt;

Smooth task! for words find easy way, inspired

15 By gratitude, and confidence in truth. Long time in search of knowledge did I range

The field of human life, in heart and mind Benighted; but, the dawn beginning now To reappear, 'twas proved that not in vain 20 I had been taught to reverence a Power That is the visible quality and shape And image of right reason; that matures Her processes by steadfast laws; gives birth

To no impatient or fallacious hopes, 25 No heat of passion or excessive zeal, No vain conceits; provokes to no quick

30

turns

Of self-applauding intellect; but trains
To meekness, and exalts by humble faith;
Holds up before the mind intoxicate
With present objects, and the busy dance
Of things that pass away, a temperate show
Of objects that endure; and by this course
Disposes her, when over-fondly set

On throwing off incumbrances, to seek 35 In man, and in the frame of social life, Whate'er there is desirable and good Of kindred permanence, unchanged in form

And function, or, through strict vicissitude Of life and death, revolving. Above all 40 Were re-established now those watch ful thoughts

By bodily toil, labor exceeding far Their due proportion, under all the weight Of that injustice which upon ourselves 100 Ourselves entail." Such estimate to frame I chiefly looked (what need to look beyond?)

105

Among the natural abodes of men,
Fields with their rural works; recalled
to mind

My earliest notices; with these compared
The observations made in later youth,
And to that day continued.-For, the time
Had never been when throes of mighty
Nations

And the world's tumult unto me could
yield,

Full measure of content; but still I craved
How far soe'er transported and possessed,
An intermingling of distinct regards
And truths of individual sympathy
Nearer ourselves. Such often might be
gleaned

From the great City, else it must have
proved

115 To me a heart-depressing wilderness; But much was wanting: therefore did I

140 With long long ways before, by cottage bench,

Or well-spring where the weary traveller

rests.

Who doth not love to follow with his eye The windings of a public way? the sight, Familiar object as it is, hath wrought 145 On my imagination since the morn

Of childhood, when a disappearing line, One daily present to my eyes, that crossed The naked summit of a far-off hill Beyond the limits that my feet had trod, 150 Was like an invitation into space

Boundless, or guide into eternity.

Yes, something of the grandeur which invests

The mariner who sails the roaring sea Through storm and darkness, early in my mind

155 Surrounded, too, the wanderers of the earth;

From mouths of men obscure and lowly, truths

Replete with honor; sounds in unison. 185 With loftiest promises of good and fair.

There are who think that strong affection, love

Known by whatever name, is falsely deemed

A gift, to use a term which they would use, Of vulgar nature; that its growth requires 190 Retirement, leisure, language purified

195

By manners studied and elaborate;

That whoso feels such passion in its strength

Must live within the very light and air
Of courteous usages refined by art.
True is it, where oppression worse than

death

Salutes the being at his birth, where grace
Of culture hath been utterly unknown,
And poverty and labor in excess
From day to day preoccupy the ground
Of the affections, and to Nature's self
Oppose a deeper nature; there, indeed,
Love cannot be; nor does it thrive with

ease

Among the close and overcrowded haunts Of cities, where the human heart is sick, And the eye feeds it not, and cannot feed. -Yes, in those wanderings deeply did I feel

How we mislead each other; above all, How books mislead us, seeking their reward

From judgments of the wealthy Few, who

see

By artificial lights; how they debase
The Many for the pleasure of those Few;
Effeminately level down the truth

To certain general notions, for the sake Of being understood at once, or else 215 Through want of better knowledge in the heads

rance;

If virtue be indeed so hard to rear,
And intellectual strength so rare a boon-
I prized such walks still more, for there
I found

180 Hope to my hope, and to my pleasure peace

And steadiness, and healing and repose
To every angry passion. There I heard,

A youthful traveller, and see daily now In the familiar circuit of my home, Here might I pause, and bend in reverence 225 To Nature, and the power of human minds, To men as they are men within themselves. How oft high service is performed within,

Meek men, whose very souls perhaps would sink

Beneath them, summoned to such inter

course:

Theirs is the language of the heavens, the
power,

The thought, the image, and the silent joy:
Words are but under-agents in their souls;
When they are grasping with their great-
est strength,

275 They do not breathe among them: this I speak

280

are.

250 Be mine to follow with no timid step Where knowledge leads me: it shall be my pride

That I have dared to tread this holy ground,

Speaking no dream, but things oracular; Matter not lightly to be heard by those 255 Who to the letter of the outward promise Do read the invisible soul; by men adroit In speech, and for communion with the world

Accomplished; minds whose faculties are then

Most active when they are most eloquent, 260 And elevated most when most admired. Men may be found of other mould than these,

Who are their own upholders, to themselves

Encouragement, and energy, and will, Expressing liveliest thoughts in lively words

265 As native passion dictates. Others, too, There are among the walks of homely life

Still higher, men for contemplation

framed,

Shy, and unpractised in the strife of

phrase;

In gratitude to God, Who feeds our hearts
For His own service; knoweth, loveth us,
When we are unregarded by the world.

Also, about this time did I receive Convictions still more strong than heretofore,

Not only that the inner frame is good,
And graciously composed, but that, no less,
Nature for all conditions wants not power
To consecrate, if we have eyes to see,
The outside of her creatures, and to
breathe

Grandeur upon the very humblest face Of human life. I felt that the array Of act and circumstance, and visible form, Is mainly to the pleasure of the mind 290 What passion makes them; that meanwhile the forms

Of Nature have a passion in themselves,
That intermingles with those works of man
To which she summons him; although the
works

Be mean, have nothing lofty of their own; 295 And that the Genius of the poet hence

May boldly take his way among mankind
Wherever Nature leads; that he hath stood
By Nature's side among the men of old,
And so shall stand forever. Dearest
friend!

300 If thou partake the animating faith
That poets, even as prophets, each with
each

305

310

Connected in a mighty scheme of truth, Have each his own peculiar faculty, Heaven's gift, a sense that fits him to perceive

Objects unseen before, thou wilt not

blame