Sweet was the walk along the narrow lane <br />At noon, the bank and hedge-rows all the way <br />Shagged with wild pale green tufts of fragrant hay, <br />Caught by the hawthorns from the loaded wain, <br />Which Age with many a slow stoop strove to gain; <br />And childhood, seeming still most busy, took <br />His little rake; with cunning side-long look, <br />Sauntering to pluck the strawberries wild, unseen. <br />Now, too, on melancholy's idle dreams <br />Musing, the lone spot with my soul agrees, <br />Quiet and dark; for through the thick wove trees <br />Scarce peeps the curious star till solemn gleams <br />The clouded moon, and calls me forth to stray <br />Thro' tall, green, silent woods and ruins gray.<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sweet-was-the-walk/
