“Derwentwater>”
DERWENTWATER.
Now Derwentwater come!—a looking‐glass
a
Wherein reflected are the mountainʼs heights,
As in a mirror, framed in rocks and woods;
So upon thee there is a seeming mount,
A seeming tree, a seeming rivulet.
All upon thee are painted by a hand
Which not a critic can well criticise.
But to disturb thee oft, bluff Eolus
Descends upon the mountains, with his breath.
Thy polished surface is a boy at play
Who labours at the snow to make a man,
And when heʼs made it, knocks it down again;— b
As when thouʼst made a picture thou dost play
At tearing it to pieces. Trees do first
Tremble, as if a monstrous heart of oak
Were but an aspen leaf; and then as if
It were a cobweb in the tempestʼs blow.
Thus like Penelope thou weavʼst a web
And then thou dost undo it. Thouʼrt like her
Because thouʼrt fair, and oft deceiving too.
First seeming to be calm, then turning rough,
And thus deceiving as Penelope c
Wherein reflected are the mountainʼs heights,
As in a mirror, framed in rocks and woods;
So upon thee there is a seeming mount,
A seeming tree, a seeming rivulet.
System generated line number
5All upon thee are painted by a hand
Which not a critic can well criticise.
But to disturb thee oft, bluff Eolus
Descends upon the mountains, with his breath.
Thy polished surface is a boy at play
System generated line number
10Who labours at the snow to make a man,
And when heʼs made it, knocks it down again;— b
As when thouʼst made a picture thou dost play
At tearing it to pieces. Trees do first
Tremble, as if a monstrous heart of oak
System generated line number
15Were but an aspen leaf; and then as if
It were a cobweb in the tempestʼs blow.
Thus like Penelope thou weavʼst a web
And then thou dost undo it. Thouʼrt like her
Because thouʼrt fair, and oft deceiving too.
System generated line number
20First seeming to be calm, then turning rough,
And thus deceiving as Penelope c
Sweet Derwent, on thy winding shore,
Beside thy mountain‐forests hoar,
There would I like to wander still,
And drink from out the rippling rill,
Which from thy mountain‐head doth fall d
And mingles with the eaglesʼ call;
While on Helvellyn thunder roars,
Re‐echoed from old e Derwentʼs shores;
And while f the lightning flashes still,
Reflected in the mountain‐rill.
Beside thy mountain‐forests hoar,
There would I like to wander still,
System generated line number
25And drink from out the rippling rill,
Which from thy mountain‐head doth fall d
And mingles with the eaglesʼ call;
While on Helvellyn thunder roars,
Re‐echoed from old e Derwentʼs shores;
System generated line number
30And while f the lightning flashes still,
Reflected in the mountain‐rill.