Through the walls we flew And down the valley, and, a circuit made In wantonness of heart, through rough and smooth 130 We scampered homewards.

Oh, ye rocks and streams, And that still spirit shed from evening air! Even in this joyous time I sometimes felt Your presence, when with slackened step we breathed Along the sides of the steep hills, or when 135 Lighted by gleams of moonlight from the sea We beat with thundering hoofs the level sand.
Midway on long Winander's eastern shore, Within the crescent of a pleasant bay, [I] A tavern stood; [K] no homely-featured house, 140 Primeval like its neighbouring cottages, But 'twas a splendid place, the door beset With chaises, grooms, and liveries, and within Decanters, glasses, and the blood-red wine.
In ancient times, and ere the Hall was built 145 On the large island, had this dwelling been More worthy of a poet's love, a hut, Proud of its own bright fire and sycamore shade.
But--though the rhymes were gone that once inscribed The threshold, and large golden characters, 150 Spread o'er the spangled sign-board, had dislodged The old Lion and usurped his place, in slight And mockery of the rustic painter's hand--[L] Yet, to this hour, the spot to me is dear With all its foolish pomp.

The garden lay 155 Upon a slope surmounted by a plain Of a small bowling-green; beneath us stood A grove, with gleams of water through the trees And over the tree-tops; [M] nor did we want Refreshment, strawberries and mellow cream.

160 There, while through half an afternoon we played On the smooth platform, whether skill prevailed Or happy blunder triumphed, bursts of glee Made all the mountains ring.

But, ere night-fall, When in our pinnace we returned at leisure 165 Over the shadowy lake, and to the beach Of some small island steered our course with one, The Minstrel of the Troop, and left him there, [N] And rowed off gently, while he blew his flute Alone upon the rock--oh, then, the calm 170 And dead still water lay upon my mind Even with a weight of pleasure, and the sky, Never before so beautiful, sank down Into my heart, and held me like a dream! Thus were my sympathies enlarged, and thus 175 Daily the common range of visible things Grew dear to me: already I began To love the sun; a boy I loved the sun, Not as I since have loved him, as a pledge And surety of our earthly life, a light 180 Which we behold and feel we are alive; [O] Nor for his bounty to so many worlds-- But for this cause, that I had seen him lay His beauty on the morning hills, had seen The western mountain [P] touch his setting orb, 185 In many a thoughtless hour, when, from excess Of happiness, my blood appeared to flow For its own pleasure, and I breathed with joy.
And, from like feelings, humble though intense, To patriotic and domestic love 190 Analogous, the moon to me was dear; For I could dream away my purposes, Standing to gaze upon her while she hung Midway between the hills, as if she knew No other region, but belonged to thee, [Q] 195 Yea, appertained by a peculiar right To thee and thy grey huts, thou one dear Vale! [R] Those incidental charms which first attached My heart to rural objects, day by day Grew weaker, and I hasten on to tell 200 How Nature, intervenient till this time And secondary, now at length was sought For her own sake.