So beautiful was all the wood Where, guided forth by Chance, I strayed, There is no tongue that fully could Describe it, though all men essayed. Onward I walked in merriest mood Nor any highest hill delayed My feet. Far through the forest stood The plain with fairest trees arrayed, Hedges and slopes and rivers wide, Like gold thread their banks' garnishment; And when I won the waterside, Dear Lord! what wondrous beauties blent! The beauties of that stream were steep, All-radiant banks of beryl bright; Sweet-sighing did the water sweep, With murmuring music running light; Within its bed fair stones lay deep; As if through glass they glowed, as white As streaming stars when tired men sleep Shine in the sky on a winter night. Pure emerald even the pebbles seemed, Sapphire, or other gems that lent Luster, till all the water gleamed With the glory of such beauties blent. III For the beauteousness of downs and dales, Of wood and water and proud plains, My joy springs up and my grief quails, My anguish ends, and all my pains. A swift stream down the valley hales My feet along. Bliss brims my brains; The farther I follow those watery vales, The stronger joy my heart constrains. While Fortune fares as her proud will deigns, Sending solace or sending sore, When a man her fickle favour gains, He looketh to have aye more and more. There was more of marvel and of grace Than I could tell, howe'er I tried; The human heart that could embrace A tenth part were well satisfied; For Paradise, the very place, Must be upon that farther side; The water by a narrow space Pleasance from pleasance did divide. Beyond, on some slope undescried The City stood, I thought, wherefore I strove to cross the river's tide, And ever I longed, yet more and more. More, and still more wistfully, The banks beyond the brook I scanned; If, where I stood, 't was fair to see, Still lovelier lay that farther land. I sought if any ford might be Found, up or down, by rock or sand; But perils plainer appeared to me, The farther I strode along the strand; I thought I ought not thus to stand Timid, with such bright bliss before; Then a new matter came to hand That moved my heart yet more and more. Marvels more and more amaze My mind beyond that water fair: From a cliff of crystal, splendid rays, Reflected, quiver in the air. At the cliff's foot a vision stays My glance, a maiden debonaire, All glimmering white before my gaze; And I know her,--have seen her otherwhere. Like fine gold leaf one cuts with care, Shone the maiden on the farther shore. Long time I looked upon her there, And ever I knew her more and more.