Or is it rather that Conceit rapacious is and strong, wrong? Or is it, that when human Souls a journey long have had And are returned into themselves, they cannot but be sad? Or must we be constrained to think that these Spectators rude, Poor in estate, of manners base, men of the multitude, Have souls which never yet have risen, and therefore prostrate lie? No, no, this cannot be - Men thirst for power and majesty! Does, then, a deep and earnest thought the blissful mind employ Of him who gazes, or has gazed? a grave and steady joy, That doth reject all show of pride, admits no outward sign, Because not of this noisy world, but silent and divine! Whatever be the cause, 'tis sure that they who pry and pore Seem to meet with little gain, seem less happy than before: One after One they take their turn, nor have I one espied That doth not slackly go away, as if dissatisfied. THOSE Silver clouds collected round the sun To overshade than multiply his beams By soft reflection grateful to the sky, More ample than the time-dismantled Oak Spreads o'er this tuft of heath, which now, attired This venerable Tree; for, when the wind Seem to participate, the whilst they view That, for a brief space, checks the hurrying stream! XX. WRITTEN IN MARCH, WHILE RESTING ON THE BRIDGE AT THE FOOT OF THE Cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; Are at work with the strongest ; There are forty feeding like one! Like an army defeated The Snow hath retreated, On the top of the bare hill; The Ploughboy is whooping - anon - anon: There's joy in the mountains; Small clouds are sailing, Blue sky prevailing; The rain is over and gone! XXI. GIPSIES. YET are they here the same unbroken knot Men, Women, Children, yea the frame Of the whole Spectacle the same! - Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours, are gone while I Have been a Traveller under open sky, Much witnessing of change and cheer, The weary Sun betook himself to rest. The glorious path in which he trod. And breeding suffers them to be; Wild outcasts of society! XXII. BEGGARS. BEFORE my eyes a Wanderer stood; Depended with a graceful flow; Only she wore a cap as white as new-fallen snow. Her skin was of Egyptian brown; Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian Isles. She begged an alms; no scruple checked The current of her ready plea, And yet a boon I gave her; for the Creature I left her, and pursued my way; And soon before me did espy The Taller followed with his hat in hand, reathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of the land. |