At length I to a sudden turning came In this continuous glen, where down a rock The stream, so ardent in its course before, Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all Which I till then had heard, appear'd the voice Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the lamb, The Shepherd's dog, the linnet and the thrush Vied with this waterfall, and made a song Which, while I listen'd, seem'd like the wild growth Or like some natural produce of the air That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here, But 'twas the foliage of the rocks, the birch, The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn, With hanging islands of resplendent furze: And on a summit, distant a short space, By any who should look beyond the dell, A single mountain Cottage might be seen. I gaz'd and gaz'd, and to myself I said, "Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook, My EMMA, I will dedicate to thee." --Soon did the spot become my other home, My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode. And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there, To whom I sometimes in our idle talk Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps, Years after we are gone and in our graves, When they have cause to speak of this wild place, May call it by the name of EMMA'S DELL. II. _To JOANNA_. Amid the smoke of cities did you pass Your time of early youth, and there you learn'd, From years of quiet industry, to love The living Beings by your own fire-side, With such a strong devotion, that your heart Is slow towards the sympathies of them Who look upon the hills with tenderness, And make dear friendships with the streams and groves. Yet we who are transgressors in this kind, Dwelling retired in our simplicity Among the woods and fields, we love you well, Joanna! and I guess, since you have been So distant from us now for two long years, That you will gladly listen to discourse However trivial, if you thence are taught That they, with whom you once were happy, talk Familiarly of you and of old times.