Range.

PRELUDE: BOOK ONE, CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL-TIME

Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up

Fostered alike by beauty and by fear:

Much favoured in my birth-place, and no less

In that beloved Vale to which erelong

We were transplanted-there were we let loose

For sports of wider range. Ere I had told

Ten birth-days, when among the mountain slopes

Frost, and the breath of frosty wind, had snapped

The last autumnal crocus, 'twas my joy

With store of springes o'er my shoulder hung

To range the open heights where woodcocks run

Along the smooth green turf. Through half the night,

Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied

That anxious visitation;-moon and stars

Were shining o'er my head. I was alone,

And seemed to be a trouble to the peace

That dwelt among them. Sometimes it befel

In these night wanderings, that a strong desire

O'erpowered my better reason, and the bird

Which was the captive of another's toil

Became my prey; and when the deed was done

I heard among the solitary hills

Low breathings coming after me, and sounds

Of undistinguishable motion, steps
Almost as silent as the turf they trod.

William Wordsworth