Who here abide, the persons like the place. 315
Not from such hope, or aught of such belief
Hath issued any portion of the joy
Which I have felt this day. An awful voice,
’Tis true, hath in my walks been often heard,
Sent from the mountains or the sheltered fields; 320
Shout after shout—reiterated whoop
In manner of a bird that takes delight
In answering to itself; or like a hound
Single at chase among the lonely woods,