... a spot of holy ground,
By Pain and her sad family unfound,
Sure, Nature's God that spot to man had given,
Where murmuring rivers join the song of even;
Where falls ...

Where the resounding power of water shakes

Where with loud voice the power of waters shakes

And not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
Who, to converse with Nature, quits his home,
And plods o'er hills and vales his way forlorn,
Wooing her various charms from eve to morn.

Yet not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
Who at the call of summer quits his home,
And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height,
Though seeking only holiday delight;

No sad vacuitiesⁱ his heart annoy;—
Blows not a Zephyr but it whispers joy;
For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;
He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale;
For him sod-seats ...

Breathes not a zephyr but it whispers joy;
For him the loneliest flowers their sweets exhale;
He marks "the meanest note that swells theⁱⁱ gale;"

And dear the green-sward to his velvet tread;

Whilst ...

... with kindest ray
To light him shaken by his viewless way.

With bashful fear no cottage children steal
From him, a brother at the cottage meal,

Much wondering what sad stroke of crazing Care,
Or desperate Love could lead a wanderer there.

Much wondering in what fit of crazing care,
Or desperate love, a wanderer came there.

Me, lured by hope her sorrows to remove,
A heart that could not much itself approve,
O'er Gallia's wastes of corn dejected led,
Her road elms rustling high above my head,
Or through her truant pathways' native charms,
By secret villages and lonely farms,
To where the Alps ...

... could not much herself approve,

... lured by hope its sorrows to remove,

I sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.
Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe
Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear?
That breathed a death-like peace these woods around;
The cloister startles ...

Even now, emerging from the forest's gloom,
I heave a sigh at hoary Chartreuse' doom.
Where now is fled that Power whose frown severe
Tamed "sober Reason" till she crouched in fear?

That breathed a death-like silence wide around,
Broke only by the unvaried torrent's sound,
Or prayer-bell by the dull cicada drown'd.

The cloister startles at the gleam of arms,
And Blasphemy the shuddering fane alarms;

That ...

And swells the groaning torrent with his tears.

Nod the cloud-piercing pines their troubled heads,

The cross with hideous laughter Demons mock,
By angels planted on the aereal rock.

The cross, by angels on the aërial rock
Planted, a flight of laughing demons mock.

... sound ...

To ringing team unknown ...

Wild round the steeps the little pathway twines,

The viewless lingerer ...

Tracking the yellow sun from steep to steep,
As up the opposing hills, with tortoise foot, they creep.

And track the yellow light ...

... on naked steeps
As up the opposing hill it slowly creeps.

Here half a village shines, in gold arrayed,
Bright as the moon; ...

From the dark sylvan roofs the restless spire
Inconstant glancing, mounts like springing fire.

... the waves ...

Th' unwearied sweep of wood thy cliffs that scales;
The never-ending waters of thy vales;

The cots, those dim religious groves embower,
Or, under rocks that from the water tower
Insinuated, sprinkling all the shore,

... his ...

Whose flaccid sails in forms fantastic droop,
Bright'ning the gloom where thick the forests stoop;

... like swallows' nests that cleave on high;

While Evening's solemn bird melodious weeps,
Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps;

—Thy lake, mid smoking woods, that blue and grey
Gleams, streaked or dappled, hid from morning's ray

As beautiful the flood where blue or grey
Dappled, or streaked, as hid from morning's ray.

... to fold

From thickly-glittering spires the matin bell
Calling the woodman from his desert cell,
A summons to the sound of oars, that pass,
Spotting the steaming deeps, to early mass;
Slow swells the service o'er the water born,
While fill each pause the ringing woods of morn.

Calls forth the woodman with its cheerful knell.

Farewell those forms that in thy noon-tide shade,
Rest, near their little plots of wheaten glade;

Ye lovely forms that in the noontide shade
Rest near their little plots of wheaten glade.

Those charms that bind ...

And winds, ...

Yet arts are thine that soothe the unquiet heart,
And smiles to Solitude and Want impart.
I lov'd, 'mid thy most desart woods astray,
With pensive step to measure my slow way,
By lonely, silent cottage-doors to roam,
The far-off peasant's day-deserted home.

I loved by silent cottage-doors to roam,
The far-off peasant's day-deserted home;

Once did I pierce to where a cabin stood;
The red-breast peace had buried it in wood,

And once I pierced the mazes of a wood,
Where, far from public haunt, a cabin stood;

There, by the door a hoary-headed Sire
Touched with his withered hand an ancient lyre;

Beneath an old-grey oak, as violets lie,

... joined the holy sound;

While ...

Bend o'er th' abyss, the else impervious gloom

Hang o'er th' abyss:— ...

... the abyss:— ...

Freshening the waste of sand with shades and springs.
—She, solitary, through the desart drear
Spontaneous wanders, hand in hand with Fear.

By choice or doom a gipsy wanders here,
Companionless, or hand in hand with fear;
Lo! where she sits beneath yon shaggy rock,
A cowering shape half-seen through curling smoke.