O Mountain Stream ! the Shepherd and his
Cot1
Cot1
Are privileged Inmates of deep solitude ;2
Nor would the nicest Anchorite exclude3
A field or two of brighter green, or plot4
Of tillage-ground, that seemeth like a spot5
Of stationary sunshine :— thou hast view’d6
These only, Duddon ! with their paths re-
new’d7
new’d7
By fits and starts, yet this contents thee not.8
Thee hath some awful Spirit impelled to
leave,9
leave,9
Utterly to desert, the haunts of men,10
Though simple thy companions were and
few ;11
few ;11
And through this wilderness a passage cleave12
Attended but by thy own voice, save when13
The Clouds and Fowls of the air thy way
pursue !14
pursue !14