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We rose up from the fountain-side,
- It seem'd a day, One of those heavenly days which cannot die, When forth I sallied from our cottage door, * And with a wallet o'er my shoulder slung, A nutting crook in hand, I turu'd my steps Towards the distant woods, a Figure quaint, Trick'd out in proud disguise of Beggar's weeds Put on for the occasion, by advice And exhortation of my frugal Dame. Motley accoutrements! of power to smile At thorns, and brakes, and brambles, and in
truth, Moré ragged than need was." Among the
woods, And o'er the pathless rocks, I forc'd my way Until, at length, I came to one dear nook Unvisited, where not a broken bough
The house at which I was boarded during the time I was at School,
Droop'd with its wither'd leaves, ungracious
sign Of devastation, but the hazels rose Tall and erect, with milk-white clusters hung, A virgin scene!-A little while I stood, Breathing with such suppression of the heart As joy delights in; and with wise restraint Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed The banquet, ,or beneath the trees I sate Among the flowers, and with thç flowers I
play'd; A temper known to those, who, after long And weary expectation, have been bless'd With sudden happiness beyond all hope. -Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves The violets of five seasons re-appear And fade, unseen by any human eye, Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on For ever, and I saw the sparkling foam, And with my cheek on one of those green stones That fleec'd with moss, beneath the shady
trees, Lay round me scatter'd like a flock of sheep, I heard the murmurand the murmuring sound, In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease, and of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, And on the vacant air. Then up I rose,
And dragg’d to earth both branch and bough,
with crash And merciless ravage; and the shady nook of hazels, and the green and mossy bower Deform'd and sullied, patiently gave up Their quiet being; and unless I now Confound my present feelings with the past, Even then, when from the bower I turn'd away, Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings, I felt a sense of pain when I beheld The silent trees and the intruding sky.
Then dearest Maiden! move along these
shades In gentleness of heart'with gentle hand Touch, -for there is a Spirit in the woods.
THREE years she grew in sun and shower, 1
" She shall be sportive as the fawn