Was of a mighty city-boldly say
A wilderness of building, sinking far
And self-withdrawn into a boundless 1 depth,
Far sinking into splendour-without end!
Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold,
With alabaster domes, and silver spires,
And blazing terrace upon terrace, high
Uplifted; here, serene pavilions bright,
In avenues disposed; there, towers begirt
With battlements that on their restless fronts
Bore stars-illumination of all gems!

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840

845

By earthly nature had the effect been wrought
Upon the dark materials of the storm

Now pacified; on them, and on the coves

And mountain-steeps and summits, whereunto
The vapours had receded, taking there
Their station under a cerulean sky.

Oh, 'twas an unimaginable sight!

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Clouds, mists, streams, watery rocks and emerald turf,
Clouds of all tincture, rocks and sapphire sky,
Confused, commingled, mutually inflamed,
Molten together, and composing thus,

Each lost in each, that marvellous array

Of temple, palace, citadel, and huge
Fantastic pomp of structure without name,
In fleecy folds voluminous, enwrapped.
Right in the midst, where interspace appeared
Of open court, an object like a throne
Under 2 a shining canopy of state

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860

1 1845.

2 1836. Beneath

wondrous

1814.

1814.

homes, giving him up for lost; but the next morning the same persons discovered him huddled up in the sheltered nook. He was at first stupefied and unable to move; but after he had eaten and drunk, and recollected himself a little, he walked down the mountain, and did not afterwards seem to have suffered."-ED.

Stood fixed; and fixed resemblances were seen
To implements of ordinary use,

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But vast in size, in substance glorified;

Such as by Hebrew Prophets were beheld

In vision *—forms uncouth of mightiest power
For admiration and mysterious awe.

This little Vale, a dwelling-place of Man,1

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Lay low beneath my feet; 'twas visible—

I saw not, but I felt that it was there.

That which I saw was the revealed abode
Of Spirits in beatitude: my heart

874

Swelled in my breast.—‘I have been dead,' I cried, 'And now I live! Oh! wherefore do I live?'

And with that pang I prayed to be no more!-
-But I forget our Charge, as utterly

I then forgot him :—there I stood and gazed :
The apparition faded not away,

And I descended.†

"Having reached the house,

I found its rescued inmate safely lodged,

880

And in serene possession of himself,

Beside a fire whose genial warmth seemed met
By a faint shining from the heart, a gleam

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1

1845.

Below me was the earth; this little Vale

1814.

* Compare Ezekiel, chap. i.-ED.

"The glorious appearance disclosed above and among the mountains, was described partly from what my friend Mr. Luff, who then lived in Paterdale, witnessed upon that melancholy occasion, and partly from what Mary and I had seen, in company with Sir George and Lady Beaumont, above Hartshope Hall, on our way from Paterdale to Ambleside."-I. F.

Compare the lines 827-881 with the account of the view from the top of Snowdon, in The Prelude, book xiv. ll. 11-62 (vol. iii. pp. 367-68), and see Charles Lamb's remarks in his letter to Wordsworth (Aug. 14, 1814) on receiving a copy of The Excursion. (Letters of Charles Lamb, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. 271.) In his Table Talk Coleridge expresses a wish "that the first two books of The Excursion had been published separately under the name of 'The Deserted Cottages.' They would have formed, what indeed they are, one of the most beautiful poems in the language." This advice has been followed more than once.-ED.

Of comfort, spread over his pallid face.1

Great show of joy the housewife made, and truly
Was glad to find her conscience set at ease;
And not less glad, for sake of her good name,
That the poor Sufferer had escaped with life.
But, though he seemed at first to have received
No harm, and uncomplaining as before
Went through his usual tasks, a silent change
Soon showed itself: he lingered three short weeks;
And from the cottage hath been borne to-day.

"So ends my dolorous tale, and glad I am That it is ended." At these words he turnedAnd, with blithe air of open fellowship,

Brought from the cupboard wine and stouter cheer, Like one who would be merry.

Seeing this,

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900

My grey-haired Friend said courteously-" Nay, nay,

You have regaled us as a hermit ought;
Now let us forth into the sun!"-Our Host
Rose, though reluctantly, and forth we went.

Book Third

DESPONDENCY

ARGUMENT

Images in the Valley-Another Recess in it entered and described -Wanderer's sensations-Solitary's excited by the same objects—Contrast between these—Despondency of the Solitary gently reproved-Conversation exhibiting the Solitary's past and present opinions and feelings, till he enters upon his own History at length—His domestic felicity—Afflictions— Dejection-Roused by the French Revolution-Disappointment and disgust-Voyage to America—Disappointment

1

1836.

Beside a genial fire; that seemed to spread
A gleam of comfort o'er his pallid face.

1814.

and disgust pursue him-His return-His languor and depression of mind, from want of faith in the great truths of Religion, and want of confidence in the virtue of

Mankind.

A HUMMING BEE—a little tinkling rill—
A pair of falcons wheeling on the wing,
In clamorous agitation, round the crest
Of a tall rock, their airy citadel—

By each and all of these the pensive ear
Was greeted, in the silence that ensued,

When through the cottage threshold we had passed,
And, deep within that lonesome valley, stood
Once more beneath the concave of a 1 blue
And cloudless sky.—Anon exclaimed our Host,
Triumphantly dispersing with the taunt

The shade of discontent which on his brow
Had gathered,—“ Ye have left my cell,—but see
How Nature hems you in with friendly arms!
And by her help ye are my prisoners still.
But which way shall I lead you?—how contrive,
In spot so parsimoniously endowed,

5

ΙΟ

15

20

That the brief hours, which yet remain, may reap
Some recompense of knowledge or delight?”
So saying, round he looked, as if perplexed;
And, to remove those doubts, my grey-haired Friend
Said—“ Shall we take this pathway for our guide ?—
Upward it winds, as if, in summer heats,

Its line had first been fashioned by the flock
Seeking a place of refuge 2 at the root

Of yon black Yew-tree, whose protruded boughs
Darken the silver bosom of the crag,*

25

* There is still a single "yew-tree" high up the eastern side of the valley

on the face of Lingmoor Fell,

Darkening the silver bosom of the crag.

ED.

1

From which she draws her1 meagre sustenance.
There in commodious shelter may we rest.
Or let us trace this streamlet to its 2 source;

Feebly it tinkles with an earthy sound,

And a few steps may bring us to the spot

Where, haply, crowned with flowerets and green herbs,
The mountain infant to the sun comes forth,

Like human life from darkness."-A quick turn 3
Through a strait passage of encumbered ground,
Proved that such hope was vain :-for now we stood
Shut out from prospect of the open vale,
And saw the water, that composed this rill,
Descending, disembodied, and diffused
O'er the smooth surface of an ample crag,

30

35

40

Lofty, and steep, and naked as a tower.

Whether to such wild objects he were led

Here would not linger, willingly detained?

All further progress here was barred ;—And who,
Thought I, if master of a vacant hour,

45

When copious rains have magnified the stream
Into a loud and white-robed waterfall,

Or introduced at this more quiet time.

Upon a semicirque of turf-clad ground, The hidden nook discovered to our view

50

A mass of rock, resembling, as it lay
Right at the foot of that moist precipice,

A stranded ship, with keel upturned, that rests

Fearless of winds and waves. Three several stones
Stood near, of smaller size, and not unlike

55