WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceal'd, The bowers where Lucy play'd;

And thine too ib the last green field That Lucy's eyes burvey'd.

532 O)

^HREE years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said, A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This child I to myself will take; She bhall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own.

A Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me

The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power

To kindle or restrain.

'She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn

Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm

Of mute insensate things.

'The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend;

Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden's form

By silent sympathy.

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