Is lig serene and blessed mood,

    In ly lead us on,

    Until, this corporeal frame,

    And even tion of our human blood

    Almost suspended, we are laid asleep

    In body, and become a living soul:

    by the power

    Of he deep power of joy,

    e see into things.

    If this

    Be but a vain belief, yet, o,

    In darkness, and amid the many shapes

    Of joyless day-ligful stir

    Unpro?table, and the world,

    ings of my ,

    , in spirit, urned to thee

    O sylvan ye! the woods,

    en  turned to thee!

    And noinguis,

    itions dim and faint,

    And somey,

    ture of the mind revives again:

    and, not only he sense

    Of present pleasure, but s

    t in t there is life and food

    For future years. And so I dare to hope

    t, from w I was, w

    I came among these hills; when like a roe

    I bounded oer tains, by the sides

    Of treams,

    ure led; more like a man

    Flying from somet han one

    ture then

    (the coarser pleasures of my boyish days,

    And ts all gone by,)

    to me  paint

    taract

    ed me like a passion: tall rock,

    tain, and the deep and gloomy wood,

    to me

    An appetite: a feeling and a love,

    t er charm,

    By t supplied, or any interest

    Unborro time is past,

    And all its aching joys are now no more,

    And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this

    Faint I, nor