Yet ’tis not to enjoy that we exist, For that end only; something must be done. 665 I must not walk in unreproved delight These narrow bounds, and think of nothing more, No duty that looks further, and no care. Each being has his office, lowly some And common, yet all worthy if fulfilled 670 With zeal, acknowledgment that with the gift Keeps pace, a harvest answering to the seed-- Of ill-advised Ambition and of Pride I would stand clear, but yet to me I feel That an internal brightness is vouchsafed 675 That must not die, that must not pass away. Why does this inward lustre fondly seek, And gladly blend with outward fellowship? Why do _they_ shine around me whom I love? Why do they teach me whom I thus revere? 680 Strange question, yet it answers not itself. That humble roof embowered among the trees, That calm fire-side, it is not even in them, --Blest as they are--to furnish a reply, That satisfies and ends in perfect rest. 685 Possessions have I that are solely mine, Something within which yet is shared by none, Not even the nearest to me and most dear, Something which power and effort may impart, I would impart it, I would spread it wide, 690 Immortal in the world which is to come. Forgive me if I add another claim, And would not wholly perish even in this, Lie down and be forgotten in the dust, I and the modest partners of my days 695 Making a silent company in death; Love, knowledge, all my manifold delights All buried with me without monument Or profit unto any but ourselves. It must not be, if I, divinely taught, 700 Be privileged to speak as I have felt Of what in man is human or divine. While yet an innocent little-one, with a heart That doubtless wanted not its tender moods, I breathed (for this I better recollect) 705 Among wild appetites and blind desires, Motions of savage instinct, my delight And exaltation. Nothing at that time So welcome, no temptation half so dear As that which urged me to a daring feat. 710 Deep pools, tall trees, black chasms, and dizzy crags, And tottering towers; I loved to stand and read Their looks forbidding, read and disobey, Sometimes in act, and evermore in thought. With impulses that scarcely were by these 715 Surpassed in strength, I heard of danger, met Or sought with courage; enterprize forlorn By one, sole keeper of his own intent, Or by a resolute few who for the sake Of glory, fronted multitudes in arms. 720 Yea to this hour I cannot read a tale