QK 



Yet happier in my judgment, even than you, 

 With your bright transports, fairly may be deemed, 

 The wandering Herbalist — who clear alike 

 From vain and, that worse evil, vexing thoughts, 

 Casts, if he ever chance to enter here, 

 Upon these uncouth forms a slight regard 

 Of transitory interest, and peeps round 

 For some rare floweret of the hills, or plant 

 Of craggy fountain ; what he hopes for wins, 

 Or learns, at least, that 'tis not to be won ; 

 Then, keen and eager, as a fine-nosed hound 

 By soul-engrossing instinct driven along 

 Through wood or open field, the harmless man 

 Departs, intent upon his onward quest. 



Wordsworth. 



