On the clear jewel of unsullied faith,
And the bright calm of conscience? Priest, away!
God hath been with me midst the holiness
Of England’s mountains. Not in sport alone
I trod their heath-flowers; but high thoughts rose up
From the broad shadow of the enduring rocks,
And wander’d with me into solemn glens,
Where my soul felt the beauty of His word.
I have heard voices of immortal truth,
Blent with the everlasting torrent-sounds