Like others, I had skimmed, and sometimes read With care, the master pamphlets of the day Nor wanted such half-insight as grew wild Upon that meagre soil, helped out by talk And public news but having never seen A chronicle that might suffice to show Whence the main organs of the public power Had sprung, their transmigrations, when and how Accomplished, giving thus unto events A form and body all things were to me Loose and disjointed, and the affections left Without a vital interest. But hence to my more permanent abode I hasten there, by novelties in speech, Domestic manners, customs, gestures, looks, And all the attire of ordinary life, Attention was engrossed and, thus amused, I stood, 'mid those concussions, unconcerned, Tranquil almost, and careless as a flower Glassed in a green-house, or a parlour shrub That spreads its leaves in unmolested peace, While every bush and tree, the country through, Is shaking to the roots: indifference this Which may seem strange: but I was unprepared With needful knowledge, had abruptly passed Into a theatre, whose stage was filled And busy with an action far advanced.
Where silent zephyrs sported with the dust Of the Bastille, I sate in the open sun, And from the rubbish gathered up a stone, And pocketed the relic, in the guise Of an enthusiast yet, in honest truth, I looked for something that I could not find, Affecting more emotion than I felt For 'tis most certain, that these various sights, However potent their first shock, with me Appeared to recompense the traveller's pains Less than the painted Magdalene of Le Brun, A beauty exquisitely wrought, with hair Dishevelled, gleaming eyes, and rueful cheek Pale and bedropped with everflowing tears. Not a look Hope takes, or Doubt or Fear is forced to wear, But seemed there present and I scanned them all, Watched every gesture uncontrollable, Of anger, and vexation, and despite, All side by side, and struggling face to face, With gaiety and dissolute idleness. In both her clamorous Halls, The National Synod and the Jacobins, I saw the Revolutionary Power Toss like a ship at anchor, rocked by storms The Arcades I traversed, in the Palace huge Of Orléans coasted round and round the line Of Tavern, Brothel, Gaming-house, and Shop, Great rendezvous of worst and best, the walk Of all who had a purpose, or had not I stared and listened, with a stranger's ears, To Hawkers and Haranguers, hubbub wild! And hissing Factionists with ardent eyes, In knots, or pairs, or single.
Antony, And from Mont Martyr southward to the Dome Of Geneviève. Through Paris lay my readiest course, and there Sojourning a few days, I visited, In haste, each spot of old or recent fame, The latter chiefly from the field of Mars Down to the suburbs of St. But now, relinquishing the scrip and staff, And all enjoyment which the summer sun Sheds round the steps of those who meet the day With motion constant as his own, I went Prepared to sojourn in a pleasant town, Washed by the current of the stately Loire. France lured me forth the realm that I had crossed So lately, journeying toward the snow-clad Alps. Scarcely was a year thus spent Ere I forsook the crowded solitude, With less regret for its luxurious pomp, And all the nicely-guarded shows of art, Than for the humble book-stalls in the streets, Exposed to eye and hand where'er I turned. Obscurely did I live, Not seeking frequent intercourse with men, By literature, or elegance, or rank, Distinguished.
#The prelude wordsworth free
Free as a colt at pasture on the hill, I ranged at large, through London's wide domain, Month after month.
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