Upon the stretch, when winds are blowing fair: 
  Sweet coverts did we cross of pastoral life, 500
  Enticing valleys, greeted them and left
  Too soon, while yet the very flash and gleam [v]
  Of salutation were not passed away. 
  Oh! sorrow for the youth who could have seen
  Unchastened, unsubdued, unawed, unraised 505
  To patriarchal dignity of mind,
  And pure simplicity of wish and will,
  Those sanctified abodes of peaceful man,
  Pleased (though to hardship born, and compassed round
  With danger, varying as the seasons change), 510
  Pleased with his daily task, or, if not pleased,
  Contented, from the moment that the dawn
  (Ah! surely not without attendant gleams
  Of soul-illumination) calls him forth
  To industry, by glistenings flung on rocks, 515
  Whose evening shadows lead him to repose, [w]
  Well might a stranger look with bounding heart
  Down on a green recess, [x] the first I saw
  Of those deep haunts, an aboriginal vale,
  Quiet and lorded over and possessed 520
  By naked huts, wood-built, and sown like tents
  Or Indian cabins over the fresh lawns
  And by the river side.

                             That very day,
  From a bare ridge [y] we also first beheld
  Unveiled the summit of Mont Blanc, and grieved 525
  To have a soulless image on the eye
  That had usurped upon a living thought
  That never more could be.  The wondrous Vale
  Of Chamouny stretched far below, and soon
  With its dumb cataracts and streams of ice, 530
  A motionless array of mighty waves,
  Five rivers broad and vast, [z] made rich amends,
  And reconciled us to realities;
  There small birds warble from the leafy trees,
  The eagle soars high in the element, 535
  There doth the reaper bind the yellow sheaf,
  The maiden spread the haycock in the sun,
  While Winter like a well-tamed lion walks,
  Descending from the mountain to make sport
  Among the cottages by beds of flowers. 540

    Whate’er in this wide circuit we beheld,
  Or heard, was fitted to our unripe state
  Of intellect and heart.  With such a book
  Before our eyes, we could not choose but read
  Lessons of genuine brotherhood, the plain 545
  And universal reason of mankind,
  The truths of young and old.  Nor, side by side
  Pacing, two social pilgrims, or alone
  Each with his humour, could we fail to abound
  In dreams and fictions, pensively composed:  550
  Dejection taken up for pleasure’s sake,
  And gilded sympathies, the willow wreath,
  And sober posies of funereal flowers,
  Gathered among those solitudes sublime
  From formal gardens of the lady Sorrow, 555
  Did sweeten many a meditative hour.