Lyrical Ballads, with other poems, by William Wordsworth

Animal Tranquillity and Decay

A Sketch.

                The little hedge-row birds

That peck along the road, regard him not.

He travels on, and in his face, his step,

His gait, is one expression; every limb,

His look and bending figure, all bespeak

A man who does not move with pain, but moves

With thought — He is insensibly subdued

To settled quiet: he is one by whom

All effort seems forgotten, one to whom

Long patience has such mild composure given,

That patience now doth seem a thing, of which

He hath no need. He is by nature led

To peace so perfect, that the young behold

With envy, what the old man hardly feels.

— I asked him whither he was bound, and what

The object of his journey; he replied

That he was going many miles to take

A last leave of his son, a mariner,

Who from a sea-fight had been brought to Falmouth,

And there was lying in an hospital.

Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 12:02