165
  How the immortal soul with God-like power
  Informs, creates, and thaws the deepest sleep
  That time can lay upon her; how on earth,
  Man, if he do but live within the light
  Of high endeavours, daily spreads abroad 170
  His being armed with strength that cannot fail. 
  Nor was there want of milder thoughts, of love
  Of innocence, and holiday repose;
  And more than pastoral quiet, ’mid the stir
  Of boldest projects, and a peaceful end 175
  At last, or glorious, by endurance won. 
  Thus musing, in a wood I sate me down
  Alone, continuing there to muse:  the slopes
  And heights meanwhile were slowly overspread
  With darkness, and before a rippling breeze 180
  The long lake lengthened out its hoary line,
  And in the sheltered coppice where I sate,
  Around me from among the hazel leaves,
  Now here, now there, moved by the straggling wind,
  Came ever and anon a breath-like sound, 185
  Quick as the pantings of the faithful dog,
  The off and on companion of my walk;
  And such, at times, believing them to be,
  I turned my head to look if he were there;
  Then into solemn thought I passed once more. 190

  A freshness also found I at this time
  In human Life, the daily life of those
  Whose occupations really I loved;
  The peaceful scene oft filled me with surprise
  Changed like a garden in the heat of spring 195
  After an eight-days’ absence.  For (to omit
  The things which were the same and yet appeared
  Fair otherwise) amid this rural solitude,
  A narrow Vale where each was known to all,
  ’Twas not indifferent to a youthful mind 200
  To mark some sheltering bower or sunny nook,
  Where an old man had used to sit alone,
  Now vacant; pale-faced babes whom I had left
  In arms, now rosy prattlers at the feet
  Of a pleased grandame tottering up and down; 205
  And growing girls whose beauty, filched away
  With all its pleasant promises, was gone
  To deck some slighted playmate’s homely cheek.

    Yes, I had something of a subtler sense,
  And often looking round was moved to smiles 210
  Such as a delicate work of humour breeds;
  I read, without design, the opinions, thoughts,
  Of those plain-living people now observed
  With clearer knowledge; with another eye
  I saw the quiet woodman in the woods, 215
  The shepherd roam the hills.  With new delight,
  This chiefly, did I note my grey-haired Dame;
  Saw her go forth to church or other work
  Of state, equipped in monumental trim;
  Short velvet cloak, (her bonnet of the