4. My heart leaps up when I behold So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a Man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is Father of the Man; 5. WRITTEN IN MARCH, While resting on the Bridge at the Foot of Brother's The cock is crowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest ; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising; There are forty feeding like one! 10 Like an army defeated The Snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill; The Plough-boy is whooping-anon-anon : There's life in the fountains; Small clouds are sailing, Blue sky prevailing ; The rain is over and gone! 20 20 6. THE SMALL CELANDINE.* There is a Flower, the Lesser Celandine, That shrinks, like many more, from cold and rain ; And, the first moment that the sun may shine, Bright as the sun itself, 'tis out again! When hailstones have been falling swarm on swarm, Or blasts the green field and the trees distress'd, Oft have I seen it muffled up from harm, In close self-shelter, like a Thing at rest. Venus * See Page 22 in the first Volume [= p. 30 above]. 10 But lately, one rough day, this Flower I pass'd, I stopp'd, and said with inly muttered voice, 66 It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold: This neither is it's courage nor it's choice, But it's necessity in being old. The sunshine may not bless it, nor the dew; It cannot help itself in it's decay; Stiff in it's members, wither'd, changed of hue." To be a Prodigal's Favorite-then, worse truth, O Man! that from thy fair and shining youth |