While I am lying on the grass From hill to hill it seems to pass, Though babbling only to the vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget O blessed bird! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial faery place; That is fit home for thee ! CXXXVIII. HE was a phantom of delight SH When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament: Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like twilight's too her dusky hair; I saw her upon nearer view, Her household motions light and free, A countenance in which did meet Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. And now I see with eye serene With something of angelic light. CXXXIX. A SLUMBER did my spirit seal; I had no human fears: She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor sees; Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, CXL. I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine Along the margin of a bay : Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they In such a jocund company: I gazed-and gazed-but little thought For oft, when on my couch I lie And then my heart with pleasure fills, CXLI. THE SOLITARY REAPER. B EHOLD her single in the field, Yon solitary Highland lass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, No nightingale did ever chaunt A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard |