Nor lacked, for more delight on that warm day, Our table small parade of garden fruits, And whortle-berries from the mountain side. The Child, who long ere this had stilled his sobs, 685 Was now[189] a help to his late comforter, And moved, a willing Page, as he was bid, Ministering to our need. In genial mood, While at our pastoral banquet thus we sate Fronting the window of that little cell, 690 I could not, ever and anon, forbear To glance an upward look on two huge Peaks, That from some other vale peered into this.[CL] "Those lusty twins," exclaimed our host, "if here It were your lot to dwell, would soon become[190] 695 Your prized companions.--Many are the notes Which, in his tuneful course, the wind draws forth From rocks, woods, caverns, heaths, and dashing shores; And well those lofty brethren bear their part In the wild concert--chiefly when the storm 700 Rides high; then all the upper air they fill With roaring sound, that ceases not to flow, Like smoke, along the level of the blast, In mighty current; theirs, too, is the song Of stream and headlong flood that seldom fails; 705 And, in the grim and breathless hour of noon, Methinks that I have heard them echo back The thunder's greeting. Nor have nature's laws Left them ungifted with a power to yield Music of finer tone;[191] a harmony, 710 So do I call it, though it be the hand Of silence, though there be no voice;--the clouds, The mist, the shadows, light of golden suns, Motions of moonlight, all come thither--touch, And have an answer--thither come, and shape 715 A language not unwelcome to sick hearts And idle spirits:--there the sun himself, At the calm close of summer's longest day,[CM] Rests his substantial orb;--between those heights And on the top of either pinnacle, 720 More keenly than elsewhere in night's blue vault, Sparkle the stars, as of their station proud. Thoughts are not busier in the mind of man Than the mute agents stirring there:--alone Here do I sit and watch."--[CN] A fall of voice, 725 Regretted like the nightingale's last note, Had scarcely closed this high-wrought strain of rapture Ere with inviting smile the Wanderer said:[192] "Now for the tale with which you threatened us!" "In truth the threat escaped me unawares: 730 Should the tale tire you, let this challenge stand For my excuse. Dissevered from mankind, As to your eyes and thoughts we must have seemed[193] When ye looked down upon us from the crag, Islanders mid[194] a stormy mountain sea, 735 We are not so;--perpetually we touch