The storm came on before its time: 30 She wandered up and down; And many a hill did Lucy climb: But never reached the town. The wretched parents all that night 35 But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At daybreak on a hill they stood And thence they saw the bridge of wood, 40 A furlong from their door. They wept-and, turning homeward, cried, "In heaven we all shall meet;' -When in the snow the mother spied Ten birthdays, when among the mountain slopes Frost, and the breath of frosty wind, had snapped The last autumnal crocus, 'twas my joy 310 With store of springes1 o'er my shoulder hung To range the open heights where woodcocks run Among the smooth green turf. Through half the night, Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied That anxious visitation;-moon and stars 315 Were shining o'er my head. I was alone, And seemed to be a trouble to the peace That dwelt among them. Sometimes it befell In these night wanderings, that a strong desire O'erpowered my better reason, and the bird Became my prey; and when the deed was done 45 Then downwards from the steep hill's edge 320 Which was the captive of another's toil I heard among the solitary hills Low breathings coming after me, and sounds Of undistinguishable motion, steps 325 Almost as silent as the turf they trod. like one Of mountain echoes did my boat move on; The horizon's utmost boundary; far above I dipped my oars into the silent lake, 405 There hung a darkness, call it solitude By day, and were a trouble to my dreams. Wisdom and Spirit of the universe! Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me As if with voluntary power instinct 380 Upreared its head. I struck and struck 425 again, And growing still in stature the grim shape For so it seemed, with purpose of its own And through the silent water stole my way At noon and 'mid the calm of summer When, by the margin of the trembling lake, And in the frosty season, when the sun I heeded not their summons: happy time It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud about, Proud and exulting like an untired horse That cares not for his home. All shod with steel, We hissed along the polished ice in games 435 Confederate, imitative of the chase And woodland pleasures,-the resounding horn, The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare. So through the darkness and the cold we flew, And not a voice was idle; with the din 440 Smitten, the precipices rang aloud; The leafless trees and every icy crag stars 445 Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west The orange sky of evening died away. Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous 450 To cut across the reflex of a star That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes, When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side 455 Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once 460 With visible motion her diurnal round! Behind me did they stretch in solemn train, Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep. 85 And is forgotten; even then I felt And common face of Nature spake to me Rememberable things; sometimes, 'tis true, By chance collisions and quaint accidents 590 (Like those ill-sorted unions, work supposed Of evil-minded fairies), yet not vain And sorrow is not there! The seasons came, And every season wheresoe'er I moved 290 Unfolded transitory qualities, Which, but for this most watchful power Had been neglected; left a register 295 More active even than "best society❞— -And if the vulgar joy by its own weight 300 Perceived in things, where, to the unwatch- The scenes which were a witness of that joy Of things forgotten, these same scenes so So beautiful, so majestic in themselves, 265 From Book II. SCHOOL-TIME I have endeavored to display the means 270 Whereby this infant sensibility, Great birthright of our being, was in me ful eye, No difference is, and hence, from the same Sublimer joy! for I would walk alone, 305 To breathe an elevated mood, by form Or image unprofaned; and I would stand, are The ghostly language of the ancient earth, 310 Or make their dim abode in distant winds. Thence did I drink the visionary power; And deem not profitless those fleeting moods Of shadowy exultation: not for this, That they are kindred to our purer mind 315 And intellectual life; but that the soul, Remembering how she felt, but what she felt |