With heart as calm as lakes that sleep

Running rest-day ...

... not a book from my poetry-collection, as such, today; but a favourite book of mine which contains elements of wonderful poetry!

As friends know, I'm a bit of a walker --- although, all too infrequently these days --- and this 1997 compilation of W.H.Murray's mountaineering classics is a truly wonderful volume of writing.

In a section on the ethereal quality of mountains, Murray quotes William Wordsworth's 1823 poem, Memory ... here it is in full:


MEMORY

A PEN--to register; a key--
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.

As aptly, also, might be given
A Pencil to her hand;
That, softening objects, sometimes even
Outstrips the heart's demand;

That smooths foregone distress, the lines
Of lingering care subdues,
Long-vanished happiness refines,
And clothes in brighter hues;

Yet, like a tool of Fancy, works
Those Spectres to dilate
That startle Conscience, as she lurks
Within her lonely seat.

Oh! that our lives, which flee so fast,
In purity were such,
That not an image of the past
Should fear that pencil's touch!

Retirement then might hourly look
Upon a soothing scene,
Age steal to his allotted nook
Contented and serene;

With heart as calm as lakes that sleep,
In frosty moonlight glistening;
Or mountain rivers, where they creep
Along a channel smooth and deep,
To their own far-off murmurs listening.

---

William Wordsworth (1823)