Divides with me this loved abode, was there, Or not far off. Where’er my footsteps turned, 90 Her Voice was like a hidden Bird that sang, The thought of her was like a flash of light, Or an _unseen_ companionship, a breath, Or fragrance independent of the wind. In all my goings, in the new and old 95 Of all my meditations, and in this Favourite of all, in this the most of all. --What Being, therefore, since the birth of man Had ever more abundant cause to speak Thanks, and if favours of the heavenly Muse 100 Make him more thankful, then to call on verse To aid him, and in Song resound his joy. The boon is absolute; surpassing grace To me hath been vouchsafed; among the bowers Of blissful Eden this was neither given, 105 Nor could be given, possession of the good Which had been sighed for, ancient thought fulfilled And dear Imaginations realized Up to their highest measure, yea and more. Embrace me then, ye Hills, and close me in, 110 Now in the clear and open day I feel Your guardianship; I take it to my heart; ’Tis like the solemn shelter of the night. But I would call thee beautiful, for mild And soft, and gay, and beautiful thou art, 115 Dear Valley, having in thy face a smile Though peaceful, full of gladness. Thou art pleased, Pleased with thy crags, and woody steeps, thy Lake, Its one green Island and its winding shores; The multitude of little rocky hills, 120 Thy Church and cottages of mountain stone Clustered like stars some few, but single most, And lurking dimly in their shy retreats, Or glancing at[360] each other cheerful looks, Like separated stars with clouds between. 125 What want we? have we not perpetual streams, Warm woods, and sunny hills, and fresh green fields, And mountains not less green, and flocks, and herds, And thickets full of songsters, and the voice Of lordly birds, an unexpected sound 130 Heard now and then from morn till latest eve, Admonishing the man who walks below Of solitude, and silence in the sky? These have we, and a thousand nooks of earth Have also these, but _no_ where else is found, 135 No where (or is it fancy?) _can_ be found The one sensation that is here; ’tis here, Here as it found its way into my heart In childhood, here as it abides by day, By night, here only; or in chosen minds 140 That take it with them hence, where’er they go. ’Tis, but I cannot name it, ’tis the sense Of majesty, and beauty, and repose, A blended holiness of earth and sky, Something that makes this individual Spot, 145