A Vision of the Housatonic.
EPILOGUE TO A LECTURE ON WORDSWORTH.
Come, spread your wings as I spread mine,
And leave the crowded hall
For where the eyes of twilight shine
O'er evening's western wall.
And leave the crowded hall
For where the eyes of twilight shine
O'er evening's western wall.
These are the pleasant Berkshire hills,
Each with its leafy crown;
Hark! from their sides a thousand rills
Come singing sweetly down.
Each with its leafy crown;
Hark! from their sides a thousand rills
Come singing sweetly down.
A thousand rills; they leap and shine,
Strained through the mossy nooks,
Till, clasped in many a gathering twine,
They swell a hundred brooks.
Strained through the mossy nooks,
Till, clasped in many a gathering twine,
They swell a hundred brooks.
A hundred brooks; and still they run
With ripple, shade, and gleam,
Till, clustering all their braids in one,
They flow a single stream.
With ripple, shade, and gleam,
Till, clustering all their braids in one,
They flow a single stream.
A bracelet, spun from mountain mist,
A silvery sash unwound,
With ox-bow curve and sinuous twist,
It writhes to reach the Sound.
A silvery sash unwound,
With ox-bow curve and sinuous twist,
It writhes to reach the Sound.
This is my bark; a pigmy's ship;
Beneath a child it rolls;
Fear not; one body makes it dip,
But not a thousand souls.
Beneath a child it rolls;
Fear not; one body makes it dip,
But not a thousand souls.
