Book Fifth-Books by William Wordsworth
WHEN Contemplation, like the night-calm felt Through earth and sky, spreads widely, and sends deep Into the soul its tranquillising power, Even then I sometimes grieve for thee, O Man, Earth’s paramount Creature! not so much for woes That thou endurest; heavy though that weight be, Cloud-like it mounts, or touched with light divine Doth […]
Book Eleventh: France [concluded] by William Wordsworth
FROM that time forth, Authority in France Put on a milder face; Terror had ceased, Yet everything was wanting that might give Courage to them who looked for good by light Of rational Experience, for the shoots And hopeful blossoms of a second spring: Yet, in me, confidence was unimpaired; The Senate’s language, and the […]
Book Eighth: Retrospect–Love Of Nature Leading To Love Of Man by William Wordsworth
WHAT sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are heard Up to thy summit, through the depth of air Ascending, as if distance had the power To make the sounds more audible? What crowd Covers, or sprinkles o’er, yon village green? Crowd seems it, solitary hill! to thee, Though but a little family of men, Shepherds and […]
“Behold Vale! I Said, When I Shall Con” by William Wordsworth
“Beloved Vale!” I said, “when I shall con Those many records of my childish years, Remembrance of myself and of my peers Will press me down: to think of what is gone Will be an awful thought, if life have one.” But, when into the Vale I came, no fears Distressed me; from mine eyes […]
Beggars by William Wordsworth
She had a tall man’s height or more; Her face from summer’s noontide heat No bonnet shaded, but she wore A mantle, to her very feet Descending with a graceful flow, And on her head a cap as white as new-fallen snow. Her skin was of Egyptian brown: Haughty, as if her eye had seen […]
“Avaunt All Specious Pliancy Of Mind” by William Wordsworth
AVAUNT all specious pliancy of mind In men of low degree, all smooth pretence! I better like a blunt indifference, And self-respecting slowness, disinclined To win me at first sight: and be there joined Patience and temperance with this high reserve, Honour that knows the path and will not swerve; Affections, which, if put to […]
At Applewaite, Near Keswick 1804 by William Wordsworth
BEAUMONT! it was thy wish that I should rear A seemly Cottage in this sunny Dell, On favoured ground, thy gift, where I might dwell In neighbourhood with One to me most dear, That undivided we from year to year Might work in our high Calling-a bright hope To which our fancies, mingling, gave free […]
” As faith thus sanctified the warrior’s crest” by William Wordsworth
As faith thus sanctified the warrior’s crest While from the Papal Unity there came, What feebler means had failed to give, one aim Diffused thro’ all the regions of the West; So does her Unity its power attest By works of Art, that shed, on the outward frame Of worship, glory and grace, which who […]
Artegal And Elidure by William Wordsworth
WHERE be the temples which, in Britain’s Isle, For his paternal Gods, the Trojan raised? Gone like a morning dream, or like a pile Of clouds that in cerulean ether blazed! Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore, They sank, delivered o’er To fatal dissolution; and, I ween, No vestige then was left that such […]
Anticipation, October 1803 by William Wordsworth
SHOUT, for a mighty Victory is won! On British ground the Invaders are laid low; The breath of Heaven has drifted them like snow, And left them lying in the silent sun, Never to rise again!-the work is done. Come forth, ye old men, now in peaceful show And greet your sons! drums beat and […]
Animal Tranquility And Decay by William Wordsworth
The little hedgerow birds, That peck along the roads, regard him not. He travels on, and in his face, his step, His gait, is one expression: every limb, His look and bending figure, all bespeak A man who does not move with pain, but moves With thought.-He is insensibly subdued To settled quiet: he is […]
Anecdote For Fathers by William Wordsworth
I HAVE a boy of five years old; His face is fair and fresh to see; His limbs are cast in beauty’s mold And dearly he loves me. One morn we strolled on our dry walk, Or quiet home all full in view, And held such intermitted talk As we are wont to do. My […]
Andrew Jones by William Wordsworth
I HATE that Andrew Jones; he’ll breed His children up to waste and pillage. I wish the press-gang or the drum With its tantara sound would come, And sweep him from the village! I said not this, because he loves Through the long day to swear and tipple; But for the poor dear sake of […]
“And Is It Among Rude Untutored Dales” by William Wordsworth
AND is it among rude untutored Dales, There, and there only, that the heart is true? And, rising to repel or to subdue, Is it by rocks and woods that man prevails? Ah no! though Nature’s dread protection fails, There is a bulwark in the soul. This knew Iberian Burghers when the sword they drew […]
An Evening Walk by William Wordsworth
Addressed To A Young Lady FAR from my dearest Friend, ’tis mine to rove Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove; Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; Where peace to Grasmere’s lonely island leads, To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads; Leads to […]
Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been by William Wordsworth
AMONG all lovely things my Love had been; Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew About her home; but she had never seen A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew. While riding near her home one stormy night A single glow-worm did I chance to espy; I gave a fervent welcome to […]
Alice Fell, Or Poverty by William Wordsworth
THE post-boy drove with fierce career, For threatening clouds the moon had drowned; When, as we hurried on, my ear Was smitten with a startling sound. As if the wind blew many ways, I heard the sound,-and more and more; It seemed to follow with the chaise, And still I heard it as before. At […]
After-Thought by William Wordsworth
. I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide, As being past away.-Vain sympathies! For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes, I see what was, and is, and will abide; Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies; While we, the brave, the mighty, and […]
“Advance – Come Forth From Thy Tyrolean Ground” by William Wordsworth
ADVANCE-come forth from thy Tyrolean ground, Dear Liberty! stern Nymph of soul untamed; Sweet Nymph, O rightly of the mountains named! Through the long chain of Alps from mound to mound And o’er the eternal snows, like Echo, bound; Like Echo, when the hunter train at dawn Have roused her from her sleep: and forest-lawn, […]
Admonition by William Wordsworth
WELL may’st thou halt-and gaze with brightening eye! The lovely Cottage in the guardian nook Hath stirred thee deeply; with its own dear brook, Its own small pasture, almost its own sky! But covet not the Abode;-forbear to sigh, As many do, repining while they look; Intruders-who would tear from Nature’s book This precious leaf, […]
Address To The Scholars Of The Village School Of — by William Wordsworth
I COME, ye little noisy Crew, Not long your pastime to prevent; I heard the blessing which to you Our common Friend and Father sent. I kissed his cheek before he died; And when his breath was fled, I raised, while kneeling by his side, His hand:-it dropped like lead. Your hands, dear Little-ones, do […]
Address To Kilchurn Castle, Upon Loch Awe by William Wordsworth
CHILD of loud-throated War! the mountain Stream Roars in thy hearing; but thy hour of rest Is come, and thou art silent in thy age; Save when the wind sweeps by and sounds are caught Ambiguous, neither wholly thine nor theirs. Oh! there is life that breathes not; Powers there are That touch each other […]
Address To A Child During A Boisterous Winter By My Sister by William Wordsworth
WHAT way does the wind come? What way does he go? He rides over the water, and over the snow, Through wood, and through vale; and, o’er rocky height Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight; He tosses about in every bare tree, As, if you look up, you plainly may see; But […]
A Wren’s Nest by William Wordsworth
AMONG the dwellings framed by birds In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little Wren’s In snugness may compare. No door the tenement requires, And seldom needs a laboured roof; Yet is it to the fiercest sun Impervious, and storm-proof. So warm, so beautiful withal, In perfect fitness for its […]
A Whirl-Blast From Behind The Hill by William Wordsworth
A Whirl-Blast from behind the hill Rushed o’er the wood with startling sound; Then-all at once the air was still, And showers of hailstones pattered round. Where leafless oaks towered high above, I sat within an undergrove Of tallest hollies, tall and green; A fairer bower was never seen. From year to year the spacious […]
A Prophecy. February 1807 by William Wordsworth
HIGH deeds, O Germans, are to come from you! Thus in your books the record shall be found, “A watchword was pronounced, a potent sound– ARMINIUS!–all the people quaked like dew Stirred by the breeze; they rose, a Nation, true, True to herself–the mighty Germany, She of the Danube and the Northern Sea, She rose, […]
A Night Thought by William Wordsworth
Lo! where the Moon along the sky Sails with her happy destiny; Oft is she hid from mortal eye Or dimly seen, But when the clouds asunder fly How bright her mien! Far different we-a froward race, Thousands though rich in Fortune’s grace With cherished sullenness of pace Their way pursue, Ingrates who wear a […]
A Night-Piece by William Wordsworth
—The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close, Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon, Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls, Chequering the ground-from rock, plant, tree, or tower. At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam Startles […]
A Narrow Girdle Of Rough Stones And Crags, by William Wordsworth
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags, A rude and natural causeway, interposed Between the water and a winding slope Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy: And there myself and two beloved Friends, One calm September morning, ere the mist Had altogether yielded to the […]
A Flower Garden At Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire. by William Wordsworth
TELL me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold, While fluttering o’er this gay Recess, Pinions that fanned the teeming mould Of Eden’s blissful wilderness, Did only softly-stealing hours There close the peaceful lives of flowers? Say, when the ‘moving’ creatures saw All kinds commingled without fear, Prevailed a like indulgent law For the still growths that prosper […]
A Farewell by William Wordsworth
FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain-ground, Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair Of that magnificent temple which doth bound One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare; Sweet garden-orchard, eminently fair, The loveliest spot that man hath ever found, Farewell!–we leave thee to Heaven’s peaceful care, Thee, and the Cottage which thou dost […]
A Character by William Wordsworth
I marvel how Nature could ever find space For so many strange contrasts in one human face: There’s thought and no thought, and there’s paleness and bloom And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom. There’s weakness, and strength both redundant and vain; Such strength as, if ever affliction and pain Could pierce through a temper […]
Upon a Lady’s Fall Over a Stile, Gotten by Running From Her Love by William Wycherley
My Heart held out, against your Face, and Eyes, But cou’d no more, against your Breech, and Thighs, Which they, both took, and wounded, by Surprize; Who, till then, did (as ’twere,) in Ambush ly, For my poor Life, at least, my Liberty; So secret Enemies, more Mischief do, The less still they, […]
To his Indifferent Mistress by William Wycherley
I. Ah! Dear, proud Charmer, cou’d you prove At once more Cruel, or less Fair, Your Cruelty wou’d speak some Love, In turning Mine to strong Despair; For luke-warm Love, or cold Indifference, Keeps with more Pain my Flame in more Suspence. II. To make me Yours, you still disdain, Yet can’t consent to let […]
The Poor Lover to His Rich Mistress about to Marry His Coxcombly Rival by William Wycherley
He av’n is not gain’d with Wealth, or Bribes, we know, So (Divine Thing!) I nothing bid for you, No Shining Dirt, as my Rich Rivals do; Tho’ Di’monds, Pearl, may purchas’d be with Gold, Your Eyes, Teeth, at a Higher Rate I hold; My Precious, and Inestimable Dear! He who wou’d buy thy Love […]
Sleep and Death by William Wycherley
O Sleep! thou dost thy healing Virtues lend, At once t’instruct our Nature, and befriend. Do’st to our wearied Limbs fresh Strength supply, And giv’st Ideas what ’twill be to die. Brother of Death! In Office how the same! Both lent us to repair our shatter’d Frame; Yet diff’ring here, that Sleep at best can […]
On a Sea Fight, Which the Author was in, Betwixt the English and Dutch by William Wycherley
Pluto himself did tremble in his Hell, Pale Ghosts look’d paler, to hear new Ghosts tell What was in Neptune ‘s Empire done above By Two great Fleets, that for Hell’s Empire strove. Each Side, like Fiends, in Fire and Smoke did fight, And put the Dev’l himself into a Fright; For both dispatch’d to […]
Love and Wine by William Wycherley
In vain I Drunkenness forswore, Because by That made Sick and Blind; Since tho’ I have the Flask giv’n o’er, Love still intoxicates my Mind. If then for either Sottishness, Alike Man’s Sense is in Disguise; No matter which way, sure, it is, By sparkling Wine, or sparkling Eyes. Yet most debauch’d the Lovers shew, […]
In Praise of Laziness by William Wycherley
O God-like State! thou Heav’nly Laziness! Which, in thy Rags, canst thy Professors Bless, Ensure their Innocence, Peace, Ease, or Rest, Ev’n here, with Poverty, to make ’em Blest; Their Faith, and Honour, best dost justifie, Securing their Good Name, and Liberty, From Scandal, Care, Fear, Pain, and Slavery; Blest State on Earth! […]
Drinking-Song, A. To a Formal, Proud, Sober Coxcomb by William Wycherley
I. Let the Dull, Sober, and the Grave, But fit for drudging, Bus’ness have; Let sitting still, my Hand employ, My busie Tongue, not thoughtless Head; Employment, which wou’d Cares destroy, Not such, by which, more still are bred; II. Let all Ambitious Sots flie high, To make their Steps more slippery, Whilst I, with […]