Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up
  Fostered alike by beauty and by fear: 
  Much favoured in my birth-place, and no less
  In that beloved Vale to which erelong
  We were transplanted [Y]—­there were we let loose 305
  For sports of wider range.  Ere I had told
  Ten birth-days, [Z] when among the mountain slopes
  Frost, and the breath of frosty wind, had snapped
  The last autumnal crocus, [a] ’twas my joy
  With store of springes o’er my shoulder hung 310
  To range the open heights where woodcocks run
  Along the smooth green turf. [b] Through half the night,
  Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied
  That anxious visitation;—­moon and stars
  Were shining o’er my head.  I was alone, 315
  And seemed to be a trouble to the peace
  That dwelt among them.  Sometimes it befel
  In these night wanderings, that a strong desire
  O’erpowered my better reason, and the bird
  Which was the captive of another’s toil 320
  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. 325

  Nor less when spring had warmed the cultured Vale, [c]
  Moved we as plunderers where the mother-bird
  Had in high places built her lodge; though mean
  Our object and inglorious, yet the end
  Was not ignoble.  Oh! when I have hung 330
  Above the raven’s nest, by knots of grass
  And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock
  But ill sustained, and almost (so it seemed)
  Suspended by the blast that blew amain,
  Shouldering the naked crag, [d] oh, at that time 335
  While on the perilous ridge I hung alone,
  With what strange utterance did the loud dry wind
  Blow through my ear! the sky seemed not a sky
  Of earth—­and with what motion moved the clouds!

    Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows 340
  Like harmony in music; there is a dark
  Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles
  Discordant elements, makes them cling together
  In one society.  How strange that all
  The terrors, pains, and early miseries, 345
  Regrets, vexations, lassitudes interfused
  Within my mind, should e’er have borne a part,
  And that a needful part, in making up
  The calm existence that is mine when I
  Am worthy of myself!  Praise to the end! 350
  Thanks to the means which Nature deigned to employ;
  Whether her fearless visitings, or those
  That came with soft alarm, like hurtless light
  Opening the peaceful clouds; or she may use
  Severer interventions, ministry 355
  More palpable, as best might suit her aim.