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My heart leaps up when I behold
The Child is father of the Man:
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
ODE ON INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
To me did seem
5 The glory and the freshness of a dream.
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
The rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the rose;
The moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare;
Are beautiful and fair;
The sunshine is a glorious birth;
But yet I know, where'er I go,
That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song.
And while the young lambs bound
As to the tabor's sound,
To me alone there came a thought of grief:
The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep:—
Land and sea
Give themselves up to jollity.
And with the heart of May
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy
15 Ye blessed Creatures. I have heard the call
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My head hath its coronal,
20 The fulness of your bliss, I feel-I feel it all.
This sweet May-morning;
And the children are culling
On every side
In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Doth the same tale repeat:
And cometh from afar;
Not in entire forgetfulness,
But trailing clouds of glory we do come
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,
10 The Youth, who daily farther from the east
Is on his way attended;
At length the Man perceives it die away, 15 And fade into the light of common day.
Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own;
The homely nurse doth all she can
Forget the glories he hath known,
Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, 25 A six years' darling of a pigmy size!
See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies, Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, With light upon him from his father's eyes! See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, 30 Some fragment from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learnéd art; A wedding or a festival,
A mourning or a funeral;
And this hath now his heart,
To dialogues of business, love, or strife;
The little actor cons another part;
Filling from time to time his humorous stage'
Were endless imitation.
Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie
Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep
On whom those truths do rest
Broods like the day, a master o'er a slave,
20 Thou little child, yet glorious in the might
Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?
O joy! that in our embers
The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benediction: not indeed
For that which is most worthy to be blest,
35 Delight and liberty, the simple creed
Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:-
The song of thanks and praise;
Of sense and outward things,
Moving about in worlds not realized,
5 High instincts, before which our mortal nature
Those shadowy recollections,
Which, be they what they may, 10 Are yet the fountain-light of all our day, Are yet a master-light of all our seeing;
Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
To perish never;
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,
Nor all that is at enmity with joy,
Hence, in a season of calm weather
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Can in a moment travel thither-
Then, sing ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
As to the tabor's sound!
We, in thought, will join your throng
Ye that through your hearts to-day
What though the radiance which was once so bright 35 Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
Which having been must ever be;