Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.

Keswick

Keswick

By Robert Southey (1774–1843)

(From The Poet’s Pilgrimage)

ONCE more I see thee, Skiddaw! once again

Behold thee in thy majesty serene,

Where, like the bulwark of this favored plain,

Alone thou standest, monarch of the scene,—

Thou glorious mountain, on whose ample breast

The sunbeams love to play, the vapors love to rest.

Once more, O Derwent! to thy awful shores

I come, insatiate of the accustomed sight,

And, listening as the eternal torrent roars,

Drink in with eye and ear a fresh delight;

For I have wandered far by land and sea,

In all my wanderings still remembering thee.

Twelve years, (how large a part of man’s brief day!)

Nor idly nor ingloriously spent,

Of evil and of good have held their way,

Since first upon thy banks I pitched my tent.

Hither I came in manhood’s active prime,

And here my head hath felt the touch of time.

Heaven hath with goodly increase blest me here,

Where childless and oppressed with grief I came;

With voice of fervent thankfulness sincere,

Let me the blessings which are mine proclaim:

Here I possess—what more should I require?—

Books, children, leisure,—all my heart’s desire.

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