O blessed Bird! the earth we pace Again appears to be 30 An unsubstantial, faery place; That is fit home for Thee! 1. O BLITHE NEW-COMER. The Cuckoo is migratory, and appears in England in the early spring. Compare _Solitary Reaper_, l. 16. I HAV HEARD. i.e., in my youth. 3. SHALL I CALL THEE BIRD? Compare Shelley. Hail to thee, blithe spirit! Bird thou never wert. _To a Skylark_. 4. A WANDERING VOICE? Lacking substantial existence. 6. TWOFOLD SHOUT. Twofold, because consisting of a double note. Compare Wordsworth's sonnet, _To the Cuckoo_, l. 4: "With its twin notes inseparably paired." Wordsworth employs the word "shout" in several of his Cuckoo descriptions. See _The Excursion_, ii. l. 346-348 and vii. l. 408; also the following from _Yes! it was the Mountain Echo_: Yes! it was the mountain echo, Solitary, clear, profound, Answering to the shouting Cuckoo; Giving to her sound for sound. NUTTING ------It seems a day (I speak of one from many singled out), One of those heavenly days that cannot die; When, in the eagerness of boyish hope, I left our cottage threshold, sallying forth 5 With a huge wallet o'er my shoulders slung, A nutting-crook in hand, and turned my steps Toward some far-distant wood, a Figure quaint, Tricked out in proud disguise of cast-off weeds, Which for that service had been husbanded, 10 By exhortation of my frugal Dame,-- Motley accoutrement, of power to smile At thorns, and brakes, and brambles, and, in truth, More ragged than need was! O'er pathless rocks, Through beds of matted fern and tangled thickets, 15 Forcing my way, I came to one dear nook Unvisited, where not a broken bough Drooped with its withered leaves, ungracious sign Of devastation; but the hazels rose Tall and erect, with tempting clusters hung, 20 A virgin scene! A little while I stood, Breathing with such suppression of the heart As joy delights in; and with wise restraint Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed The banquet; or beneath the trees I sate 25 Among the flowers, and with the flowers I played; A temper known to those, who, after long And weary expectation, have been blest With sudden happiness beyond all hope. Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves 30 The violets of five seasons reappear And fade, unseen by any human eye; Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on Forever; and I saw the sparkling foam, And, with my cheek on one of those green stones 35 That, fleeced with moss, under the shady trees, Lay round me, scattered like a flock of sheep, I heard the murmur and the murmuring sound, In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease; and of its joy secure, 40 The heart luxuriates with indifferent things,