And touch me with each mighty hand;

And evermore a murmurous stream,

So beautiful they seemed to me,

Not less than in a godlike dream

I trod the shining sea.

COMFORT OF THE FIELDS

What would'st thou have for easement after grief,

When the rude world hath used thee with despite,

And care sits at thine elbow day and night,

Filching thy pleasures like a subtle thief?

[30]

To me, when life besets me in such wise,

'Tis sweetest to break forth, to drop the chain,

And grasp the freedom of this pleasant earth,

To roam in idleness and sober mirth,

Through summer airs and summer lands, and drain

The comfort of wide fields unto tired eyes.

By hills and waters, farms and solitudes,

To wander by the day with wilful feet;

Through fielded valleys wide with yellowing wheat;

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