INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY

FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD.

Iv. : On every side,
‘ In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Fresh flowers ; while the sun shines warm,
Ye to each other make; I see . And the Babe leaps up on his Mother’s arm:—
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!
My heart is at your festival, — But there’s a Tree, of many, one,
My head hath its coronal, A single Field which I have looked upon,
The fulness of your bliss, I feel —I feel it all. Both of them speak of something that is gone:
O evil day! if I were sullen. The Pansy at my feet
While Earth herself is adorning, Doth the same tale repeat:
This sweet May-morning, Whither is fled the visionary gleam?

And the Children are culling Where is it now, the glory and the dream?