SONNET

Fly, some kind spirit, fly to Grasmere Vale! Say that we come, and come by this day’s light Glad tidings!—spread them over field and height, But, chiefly, let one Cottage hear the tale! There let a mystery of joy prevail, The kitten frolic with unruly might, And Rover whine as at a second sight Of near-approaching good, that will not fail: And from that Infant’s face let joy appear; Yea, let our Mary’s one companion child, That hath her six weeks’ solitude beguiled With intimations manifold and dear, While we have wander’d over wood and wild— Smile on its Mother now with bolder cheer!