from _HOME_AT_GRASMERE_
            William Wordsworth
                c. 1806
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  But two are missing--two, a lonely pair
Of milk-white Swans. Wherefore are they not seen
Partaking this day's pleasure? From afar
They came, to sojourn here in solitude,
Choosing this Valley, they who had the choice
Of the whole world. We saw them day by day,
Through those two months of unrelenting storm,
Conspicuous at the centre of the Lake,
Their safe retreat. We knew them well--I guess
That the whole Valley knew them--but to us
They were more dear than may be well believed,
Not only for their beauty and their still
And placid way of life and constant love
Inseparable, not for these alone,
But that _their_ state so much resembled ours;
They having also chosen this abode;
They strangers, and we strangers; they a pair,
And we a solitary pair like them.
They should not have departed; many days
Did I look forth in vain, nor on the wing
Could see them, nor in that small open space
Of blue unfrozen water, where they lodged
And lived so long in quiet, side by side.
Shall we behold them, consecrated friends,
Faithful Companions, yet another year
Surviving, they for us, and we for them,
And neither pair be broken? Nay, perchance
It is too late already for such hope;
The Dalesmen may have aimed the deadly tube
And parted them; or haply both are gone,
One death, and that were mercy given to both.
Recall, my song, the ungenerous thought; forgive,
Thrice favoured Region, the conjecture harsh
Of such inhospitable penalty,
Inflicted upon confidence so pure.
Ah! if I wished to follow where the sight
Of all that is before my eyes, the voice
Which speaks from a presiding Spirit here
Would lead me, I should whisper to myself,
They who are dwellers in this holy place
Must needs themselves be hallowed. They require
No benediction from the Stranger's lips,
For they are blessed already. None would give
The greeting "peace be with you" unto them,
For peace they have; it cannot but be theirs.
And mercy, and forbearance--nay, not these;
_Their_ healing Offices a pure good-will
Precludes and charity beyond the bounds
Of charity--an overflowing love,
Not for the Creature only, but for all
That is around them, love for every thing
Which in this happy Region they behold!
  Thus do we soothe ourselves . . . .  (238-290 [MS. D])


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