Classic Poem

Come down at dawn from windless hills
— Into the valley of the lake,
Where yet a larger quiet fills
— The hour, and mist and water make
With rocks and reeds and island boughs
— One silence and one element,
Where wonder goes surely as once
— It went
— — By Galilean prows.

Moveless the water and the mist,
— Moveless the secret air above,
Hushed, as upon some happy tryst
— The poised expectancy of love;
What spirit is it that adores
— What mighty presence yet unseen?
What consummation works apace
— Between
— — These rapt enchanted shores?

Never did virgin beauty wake
— Devouter to the bridal feast
Than moves this hour upon the lake
— In adoration to the east.
Here is the bride a god may know,
— The primal will, the young consent,
Till surely upon the appointed mood
— Intent
— — The god shall leap — and, lo,

Over the lake's end strikes the sun —
— White, flameless fire; some purity
Thrilling the mist, a splendor won
— Out of the world's heart. Let there be
Thoughts, and atonements, and desires;
— Proud limbs, and undeliberate tongue;
Where now we move with mortal care
— Among
— — Immortal dews and fires.

So the old mating goes apace,
— Wind with the sea, and blood with thought,
Lover with lover; and the grace
— Of understanding comes unsought
When stars into the twilight steer,
— Or thrushes build among the may,
Or wonder moves between the hills,
— And day
— — Comes up on Rydal mere.