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To view the first fair buds of Spring unclose, 
Or youthful Summer round her laughing brow 
With looks of triumph twine the first wild rose, — 
To view rich Autumn bend with fruit each bough. 
Or ev’n stern Winter’s desolate array, 
His dazzling robe of snow, and frost-incrusted spray! 
Now, Memory, do thine office, — disenthral 
From present sights and sounds mine eye and ear: 
To this some native melody recal, 
To that some sunny landscape passing fair. 
Pent in a town, where never yet the sky 
Wore its own azure, or where yet the sun 
Unsullied rose, lift but before mine eye 
Thy magic mirror, and these vapours dun 
Shall roll away, and to my glance be given 
Woods, vales, and meads, outspread beneath a cloudless 
heaven. 
One effort more, and now I seem to stand 
On proud Helvellyn,—feel around me blow 
The keen, fresh breeze; or tread “ the silver strand ” 
Of the blue lake, and watch its gentle flow: 
Now pierce the glen where Ayrey’s torrent boils, 
And mark the sunbeams dally with the spray, 
H 
