William Wordsworth - 4 - William Squire & Peter Orrseeders: 2
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William Wordsworth - 4 - William Squire & Peter Orr (Size: 274.47 MB)
DescriptionFair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up Foster'd alike by beauty and by fear; Much favour'd in my birthplace, and no less In that beloved Vale to which, erelong, I was transplanted. Well I call to mind ('Twas at an early age, ere I had seen Nine summers) when upon the mountain slope The frost and breath of frosty wind had snapp'd The last autumnal crocus, 'twas my joy To wander half the night among the Cliffs And the smooth Hollows, where the woodcocks ran Along the open turf. In thought and wish That time, my shoulder all with springes hung, I was a fell destroyer. On the heights Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied My anxious visitation, hurrying on, Still hurrying, hurrying onward; moon and stars Were shining o'er my head; I was alone, And seem'd to be a trouble to the peace That was among them. Sometimes it befel In these night-wanderings, that a strong desire O'erpower'd my better reason, and the bird Which was the captive of another's toils Became my prey; and, when the deed was done I heard among the solitary hills Low breathings coming after me, and sounds Of undistinguishable motion, steps Almost as silent as the turf they trod. Nor less in springtime when on southern banks The shining sun had from his knot of leaves Decoy'd the primrose flower, and when the Vales And woods were warm, was I a plunderer then In the high places, on the lonesome peaks Where'er, among the mountains and the winds, The Mother Bird had built her lodge. Though mean My object, and inglorious, yet the end Was not ignoble. Oh! when I have hung Above the raven's nest, by knots of grass And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock But ill sustain'd, and almost, as it seem'd, Suspended by the blast which blew amain, Shouldering the naked crag; Oh! at that time, While on the perilous ridge I hung alone, With what strange utterance did the loud dry wind Blow through my ears! the sky seem'd not a sky Of earth, and with what motion mov'd the clouds! The Argo recording from 1965 of selections from The Prelude, with readings by William Squire and Peter Orr, two mainstays of the Marlowe Dramatic Society at Oxford. Kindly seed. Sharing Widget |