ABSTRACT
He is going home with a mind full stored with Lake, clouds, & Mountains for the benefit of the next poem he writes, which from what I learned afterwards from Mrs Hoare, will probably be the continuation of the Wanderer [that is, The Excursion, the continuation of which was to be The Recluse, largely unwritten except for Home at Grasmere]
Can I forget the hallow’d hour I pass’d In Grasmere chapel, in the lonely waste, Driven by the rains that patter’d on the lake, (Perhaps no holier cause) repose to take? The simple people to each separate hand Divided, youths and maids in different band; Of the great power of God, their pastor spoke;
