Poem Twenty-Six

Erasure Tintern Abbey

April 26, 2013

     

FIVE years, five summers, five long winters!

      waters, rolling mountain-springs, lofty cliffs,

      wild deep seclusion

 quiet of the sky.

      repose under this dark sycamore, at this season,

      ‘Mid groves and copses.

little lines of sportive wood, wreaths of smoke

      in silence,

vagrant dwellers of some Hermit’s cave

 beauteous forms, to a blind man’s eye:

I have owed sensations sweet, in the heart;     

tranquil restoration

no trivial influence     

unremembered, acts sublime

serene blessed human blood     

harmony, joy, belief, the fretful stir,

      the fever of the world,     

half-extinguished thought, sad perplexity,             

pleasing thoughts in this moment

I dare to hope,

      flying from something

      haunted like a passion:

      an appetite; a feeling unborrowed from the eye

 dizzy raptures.

mourn nor murmur,

      abundant recompence, sad music of humanity,

            elevated thoughts; sublime round ocean,

living air, blue sky, motion and spirit, mighty

(my dearest Friend,

      my dear, dear Friend)

shooting lights

wild eyes.

From joy to joy

evil tongues,     

dreary intercourse

moon shine, misty mountain, wild ecstasies

healing thoughts     

thy wild eyes these gleams

      Of past existence– I came     

with deeper zeal

1798.

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