Not envying Latian shades—if yet they throw
A grateful coolness round that crystal Spring,
Blandusia, prattling as when long ago
The Sabine Bard was moved her praise to sing;
Careless of flowers that in perennial blow
Round the moist marge of Persian fountains cling;
Heedless of Alpine torrents thundering
Through ice-built arches radiant as heaven’s bow;
I seek the birthplace of a native Stream.—
All hail, ye mountains! hail, thou morning light!
Better to breathe at large on this clear height
Than toil in needless sleep from dream to dream:
Pure flow the verse, pure, vigorous, free, and bright,
For Duddon, long-loved Duddon, is my theme!
Other works by William Wordsworth...
I. Suggested by a Beautiful Ruin Upon One of the Islands of Loch Lomond, a Place Chosen for the Retreat of a Solitary Individual, From Whom This Habitation Acquired the Name of the Brownie'S Cell
To barren heath, bleak moor, and q… Or depth of labyrinthine glen; Or into trackless forest set With trees, whose lofty umbrage me… World—wearied Men withdrew of yor…
