Journey Renewed.

Sonnet XXVII — 27

I rose while yet the cattle, heat-opprest,
Crowded together under rustling trees,
Brushed by the current of the water-breeze;
And for their sakes, and love of all that rest,
On Duddon’s margin, in the sheltering nest;
For all the startled scaly tribes that slink
Into his coverts, and each fearless link
Of dancing insects forged upon his breast;
For these, and hopes and recollections worn
Close to the vital seat of human clay;
Glad meetings—tender partings—that upstay
The drooping mind of absence, by vows sworn
In his pure presence near the trysting thorn;
I thanked the Leader of my onward way