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.

System generated line number

5

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

System generated line number

10

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

System generated line number

15

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.

System generated line number

20

First 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,

System generated line number

25

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;

System generated line number

30

And while f the lightning flashes still,
Reflected in the mountain‐rill.