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William Wordsworth - To a Highland Girl (At Inversneyde,
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.   Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower
    Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
    Twice seven consenting years have shed
    Their utmost bounty on thy head:
    And these grey rocks; that household lawn;
    Those trees, a veil just half withdrawn;
    This fall of water that doth make
    A murmur near the silent lake;
    This little bay; a quiet road
   That holds in shelter thy Abode—
   In truth together do ye seem
   Like something fashioned in a dream;
   Such Forms as from their covert peep
   When earthly cares are laid asleep!
   But, O fair Creature! in the light
   Of common day, so heavenly bright,
   I bless Thee, Vision as thou art,
   I bless thee with a human heart;
   God shield thee to thy latest years!
   Thee, neither know I, nor thy peers;
   And yet my eyes are filled with tears.

      With earnest feeling I shall pray
   For thee when I am far away:
   For never saw I mien, or face,
   In which more plainly I could trace
   Benignity and home-bred sense
   Ripening in perfect innocence.
   Here scattered, like a random seed,
   Remote from men, Thou dost not need
   The embarrassed look of shy distress,
   And maidenly shamefacedness:
   Thou wear`st upon thy forehead clear
   The freedom of a Mountaineer:
   A face with gladness overspread!
   Soft smiles, by human kindness bred!
   And seemliness complete, that sways
   Thy courtesies, about thee plays;
   With no restraint, but such as springs
   From quick and eager visitings
   Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach
   Of thy few words of English speech:
   A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife
   That gives thy gestures grace and life!
   So have I, not unmoved in mind,
   Seen birds of tempest-loving kind—
   Thus beating up against the wind.

      What hand but would a garland cull
   For thee who art so beautiful?
   O happy pleasure! here to dwell
   Beside thee in some heathy dell;
   Adopt your homely ways, and dress,
   A Shepherd, thou a Shepherdess!
   But I could frame a wish for thee
   More like a grave reality:
   Thou art to me but as a wave
   Of the wild sea; and I would have
   Some claim upon thee, if I could,
   Though but of common neighbourhood.
   What joy to hear thee, and to see!
   Thy elder Brother I would be,
   Thy Father—anything to thee!

      Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace
   Hath led me to this lonely place.
   Joy have I had; and going hence
   I bear away my recompense.
   In spots like these it is we prize
   Our Memory, feel that she hath eyes:
   Then, why should I be loth to stir?
   I feel this place was made for her;
   To give new pleasure like the past,
   Continued long as life shall last.
   Nor am I loth, though pleased at heart,
   Sweet Highland Girl! from thee to part;
   For I, methinks, till I grow old,
   As fair before me shall behold,
   As I do now, the cabin small,
   The lake, the bay, the waterfall;
   And thee, the spirit of them all!
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