William Wordsworth The Excursion 1795-1814

William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
The Excursion > (1795-1814)

          <  The Solitary lifted toward the hills
          A kindling eye:--accordant feelings rushed
          Into my bosom, whence these words broke forth:
          "Oh! what a joy it were, in vigorous health,
          To have a body (this our vital frame
          With shrinking sensibility endued,                         510
          And all the nice regards of flesh and blood)
          And to the elements surrender it
          As if it were a spirit!--How divine,
          The liberty, for frail, for mortal, man
          To roam at large among unpeopled glens
          And mountainous retirements, only trod
          By devious footsteps; regions consecrate
          To oldest time! and, reckless of the storm
          That keeps the raven quiet in her nest,
          Be as a presence or a motion--one                          520
          Among the many there; and while the mists
          Flying, and rainy vapours, call out shapes
          And phantoms from the crags and solid earth
          As fast as a musician scatters sounds
          Out of an instrument; and while the streams
          (As at a first creation and in haste
          To exercise their untried faculties)
          Descending from the region of the clouds,
          And starting from the hollows of the earth
          More multitudinous every moment, rend                      530
          Their way before them--what a joy to roam
          An equal among mightiest energies;
          And haply sometimes with articulate voice,
          Amid the deafening tumult, scarcely heard
          By him that utters it, exclaim aloud,
          'Rage on ye elements! let moon and stars
          Their aspects lend, and mingle in their turn
          With this commotion (ruinous though it be)
          From day to night, from night to day, prolonged!'" >