In the Fenwick note to _An Evening Walk_, vol. i. p. 5, after describing the two pairs of swans that frequented the lake of Esthwaite, Wordsworth says: "It was from the remembrance of those noble creatures, I took, thirty years after, the picture of the swan which I have discarded from the poem of _Dion_." After quoting the note, which explains the discarding of the above stanza, Professor Henry Reed remarks, "It is a remarkable instance of the comparative sacrifice of a passage of great beauty to the poet's dutiful regard for the principles of his Art" (American edition of 1851, p. 415). Wordsworth's reasons for withdrawing the stanza are obvious; but it is perhaps not unworthy of mention that when I was editing a volume of _Selections from Wordsworth_, to which many members of "The Wordsworth Society" contributed, Robert Browning besought me, in the strongest terms, to restore that discarded stanza.--ED.] I Serene, and fitted to embrace, Where'er he turned, a swan-like grace[175] Of haughtiness without pretence, And to unfold a still magnificence, Was princely Dion, in the power 5 And beauty of his happier hour. And what pure homage _then_ did wait On Dion's virtues, while the lunar beam[176] Of Plato's genius, from its lofty sphere, Fell round him in the grove of Academe, 10 Softening their inbred dignity austere-- That he, not too elate With self-sufficing solitude, But with majestic lowliness endued, Might in the universal bosom reign, 15 And from affectionate observance gain Help, under every change of adverse fate.[177] II Five thousand warriors--O the rapturous day![178] Each crowned with flowers, and armed with spear and shield, Or ruder weapon which their course might yield,[179] 20 To Syracuse advance[180] in bright array. Who leads them on?--The anxious people see Long-exiled Dion marching at their head, He also crowned with flowers of Sicily, And in a white, far-beaming, corselet clad! 25 Pure transport undisturbed by doubt or fear The gazers feel; and, rushing to the plain, Salute those strangers as a holy train Or blest procession (to the Immortals dear) That brought their precious liberty again. 30 Lo! when the gates are entered, on each hand, Down the long street, rich goblets filled with wine In seemly order stand, On tables set, as if for rites divine;-- And, as the great Deliverer marches by, 35 He looks on festal ground with fruits bestrown; And flowers are on his person thrown[181] In boundless prodigality; Nor doth[182] the general voice abstain from prayer, Invoking Dion's tutelary care, 40 As if a very Deity he were! III[CA]