I

Ah! why in age Do we revert so fondly to the walks Of childhood--but that there the Soul discerns The dear memorial footsteps unimpaired Of her own native vigour--thence can hear Reverberations; and a choral song, Commingling with the incense that ascends, Undaunted, toward the imperishable heavens, From her own lonely altar?

The Excursion, book ix. ll. 36-44.