A Remembrance of Grasmere O VALE and lake, within your mountain urn Smiling so tranquilly, and set so deep! Oft doth your dreamy loveliness return, Coloring the tender shadows of my sleep With light Elysian; for the hues that steep Your shores in melting lustre seem to float On golden clouds from spirit-lands remote, Isles of the blest, and in our memory keep Their place with holiest harmonies. Fair scene, Most loved by evening and her dewy star! O, ne’er may man, with touch unhallowed, jar The perfect music of thy charm serene! Still, still unchanged, may one sweet region wear Smiles that subdue the soul to love and tears and prayer. |
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