To walk in nature as Wordsworth

“To walk in nature as Wordsworth; did,
To see the pensive stars in there grid
A Moon-white-ice-crimped lake
The hilltops burning, slowly; opaque
Ashen as autumns, burnished, reds
To walk tip-toe amongst his daffodil beds
To feel his fan-flamed breath amid a flower
His rasping voice a church-clock-tower
In the dulcet tones of a willow tree,
I pray he whispers unto you and me.
With a body crackling an aching of mind,
With a soul and spirit equally, combined;
“To walk in nature as Wordsworth; did,
Heaven beholden” his now closed, eyelid.