The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Is gone; and now the wedding-guest He went, like one that hath been stunn'd And is of sense forlorn : A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn. LINES Written a few miles above TINTERN ABBEY, on revisiting the banks of the WYE during a Tour. July 13, 1798. Five years have passed; five summers, with the length These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect Here, under this dark sycamore, and view These plots of cottage ground, these orchard-tufts, * The river is not affected by the tides a few miles above Tintern. Which, at this season, with their unripe fruits, Though absent long, These forms of beauty have not been to me, With tranquil restoration :-feelings too Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps, have had no trivial influence As may On that best portion of a good man's life; Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood, Is lighten'd:-that serene and blessed mood, In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things. N |