The French And the Spanish Guerillas by William Wordsworth
HUNGER, and sultry heat, and nipping blast From bleak hill-top, and length of march by night Through heavy swamp, or over snow-clad height– These hardships ill-sustained, these dangers past, The roving Spanish Bands are reached at last, Charged, and dispersed like foam: but as a flight Of scattered quails by signs do reunite, So these,–and, […]
The Fountain by William Wordsworth
A Conversation We talked with open heart, and tongue Affectionate and true, A pair of friends, though I was young, And Matthew seventy-two. We lay beneath a spreading oak, Beside a mossy seat; And from the turf a fountain broke And gurgled at our feet. `Now, Matthew!’ said I, `let us match This water’s pleasant […]
The Forsaken by William Wordsworth
The peace which others seek they find; The heaviest storms not longest last; Heaven grants even to the guiltiest mind An amnesty for what is past; When will my sentence be reversed? I only pray to know the worst; And wish as if my heart would burst. O weary struggle! silent year Tell seemingly no […]
The Force Of Prayer, Or, The Founding Of Bolton, A Tradition by William Wordsworth
“What is good for a bootless bene?” With these dark words begins my Tale; And their meaning is, whence can comfort spring When Prayer is of no avail? “What is good for a bootless bene?” The Falconer to the Lady said; And she made answer “ENDLESS SORROW!” For she knew that her Son was dead. […]
The Farmer Of Tilsbury Vale by William Wordsworth
‘TIS not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined, The squeamish in taste, and the narrow of mind, And the small critic wielding his delicate pen, That I sing of old Adam, the pride of old men. He dwells in the centre of London’s wide Town; His staff is a sceptre–his grey hairs a crown; And […]
The Fairest, Brightest, Hues Of Ether Fade by William Wordsworth
The fairest, brightest, hues of ether fade; The sweetest notes must terminate and die; O Friend! thy flute has breathed a harmony Softly resounded through this rocky glade; Such strains of rapture as the Genius played In his still haunt on Bagdad’s summit high; He who stood visible to Mirza’s eye, Never before to human […]
The Emigrant Mother by William Wordsworth
ONCE in a lonely hamlet I sojourned In which a Lady driven from France did dwell; The big and lesser griefs with which she mourned, In friendship she to me would often tell. This Lady, dwelling upon British ground, Where she was childless, daily would repair To a poor neighbouring cottage; as I found, For […]
The Eagle and the Dove by William Wordsworth
SHADE of Caractacus, if spirits love The cause they fought for in their earthly home To see the Eagle ruffled by the Dove May soothe thy memory of the chains of Rome. These children claim thee for their sire; the breath Of thy renown, from Cambrian mountains, fans A flame within them that despises death […]
The Danish Boy by William Wordsworth
I BETWEEN two sister moorland rills There is a spot that seems to lie Sacred to flowerets of the hills, And sacred to the sky. And in this smooth and open dell There is a tempest-stricken tree; A corner-stone by lightning cut, The last stone of a lonely hut; And in this dell you see […]
The Cottager To Her Infant by William Wordsworth
THE days are cold, the nights are long, The north-wind sings a doleful song; Then hush again upon my breast; All merry things are now at rest, Save thee, my pretty Love! The kitten sleeps upon the hearth, The crickets long have ceased their mirth; There’s nothing stirring in the house Save one ‘wee’, hungry, […]
The Complaint Of A Forsaken Indian Woman by William Wordsworth
I Before I see another day, Oh let my body die away! In sleep I heard the northern gleams; The stars, they were among my dreams; In rustling conflict through the skies, I heard, I saw the flashes drive, And yet they are upon my eyes, And yet I am alive; Before I see another […]
The Childless Father by William Wordsworth
“UP, Timothy, up with your staff and away! Not a soul in the village this morning will stay; The hare has just started from Hamilton’s grounds, And Skiddaw is glad with the cry of the hounds.” -Of coats and of jackets grey, scarlet, and green, On the slopes of the pastures all colours were seen; […]
The Brothers by William Wordsworth
“THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live A profitable life: some glance along, Rapid and gay, as if the earth were air, And they were butterflies to wheel about Long as the summer lasted: some, as wise, Perched on the forehead of a jutting crag, Pencil in hand and book upon the knee, Will […]
The Birth Of Love by William Wordsworth
When Love was born of heavenly line, What dire intrigues disturbed Cythera’s joy! Till Venus cried, “A mother’s heart is mine; None but myself shall nurse my boy,” But, infant as he was, the child In that divine embrace enchanted lay; And, by the beauty of the vase beguiled, Forgot the beverage-and pined away. “And […]
The Affliction Of Margaret by William Wordsworth
I WHERE art thou, my beloved Son, Where art thou, worse to me than dead? Oh find me, prosperous or undone! Or, if the grave be now thy bed, Why am I ignorant of the same That I may rest; and neither blame Nor sorrow may attend thy name? II Seven years, alas! to have […]
Surprised By Joy by William Wordsworth
Surprised by joy-impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport-Oh! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind- But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have […]
Stray Pleasures by William Wordsworth
BY their floating mill, That lies dead and still, Behold yon Prisoners three, The Miller with two Dames, on the breast of the Thames! The platform is small, but gives room for them all; And they’re dancing merrily. From the shore come the notes To their mill where it floats, To their house and their […]
Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known by William Wordsworth
Strange fits of passion have I known: And I will dare to tell, But in the lover’s ear alone, What once to me befell. When she I loved looked every day Fresh as a rose in June, I to her cottage bent my way, Beneath an evening-moon. Upon the moon I fixed my eye, All […]
Stepping Westward by William Wordsworth
“What, you are stepping westward?””Yea.” ‘T would be a wildish destiny, If we, who thus together roam In a strange land, and far from home, Were in this place the guests of Chance: Yet who would stop, or fear to advance, Though home or shelter he had none, With such a sky to lead him […]
Star-Gazers by William Wordsworth
WHAT crowd is this? what have we here! we must not pass it by; A Telescope upon its frame, and pointed to the sky: Long is it as a barber’s pole, or mast of little boat, Some little pleasure-skiff, that doth on Thames’s waters float. The Showman chooses well his place, ’tis Leicester’s busy Square; […]
Stanzas by William Wordsworth
ONCE I could hail (howe’er serene the sky) The Moon re-entering her monthly round, No faculty yet given me to espy The dusky Shape within her arms imbound, That thin memento of effulgence lost Which some have named her Predecessor’s ghost. . Young, like the Crescent that above me shone, Nought I perceived within it […]
Stanzas Written In My Pocket Copy Of Thomson’s “Castle Of Indolence” by William Wordsworth
WITHIN our happy Castle there dwelt One Whom without blame I may not overlook; For never sun on living creature shone Who more devout enjoyment with us took: Here on his hours he hung as on a book, On his own time here would he float away, As doth a fly upon a summer brook; […]
Spanish Guerillas by William Wordsworth
THEY seek, are sought; to daily battle led, Shrink not, though far outnumbered by their Foes, For they have learnt to open and to close The ridges of grim war; and at their head Are captains such as erst their country bred Or fostered, self-supported chiefs,–like those Whom hardy Rome was fearful to oppose; Whose […]
Sonnet: On seeing Miss Helen Maria Williams weep at a tale of distress by William Wordsworth
She wept.–Life’s purple tide began to flow In languid streams through every thrilling vein; Dim were my swimming eyes–my pulse beat slow, And my full heart was swell’d to dear delicious pain. Life left my loaded heart, and closing eye; A sigh recall’d the wanderer to my breast; Dear was the pause of life, and […]
Sonnet: “It is not to be thought of” by William Wordsworth
IT is not to be thought of that the Flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world’s praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed, “with pomp of waters, unwithstood,” Roused though it be full often to a mood Which spurns the check of salutary bands, That this most famous Stream in bogs […]
Song Of The Wandering Jew by William Wordsworth
THOUGH the torrents from their fountains Roar down many a craggy steep, Yet they find among the mountains Resting-places calm and deep. Clouds that love through air to hasten, Ere the storm its fury stills, Helmet-like themselves will fasten On the heads of towering hills. What, if through the frozen centre Of the Alps the […]
Song Of The Spinning Wheel by William Wordsworth
FOUNDED UPON A BELIEF PREVALENT AMONG THE PASTORAL VALES OF WESTMORELAND SWIFTLY turn the murmuring wheel! Night has brought the welcome hour, When the weary fingers feel Help, as if from faery power; Dewy night o’ershades the ground; Turn the swift wheel round and round! Now, beneath the starry sky, Couch the widely-scattered sheep;– Ply […]
Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle by William Wordsworth
High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate, And Emont’s murmur mingled with the Song.- The words of ancient time I thus translate, A festal strain that hath been silent long:- “From town to town, from tower to tower, The red rose is a gladsome flower. Her thirty years of winter past, The red rose […]
Simon Lee: The Old Huntsman by William Wordsworth
. With an incident in which he was concerned In the sweet shire of Cardigan, Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall, An old Man dwells, a little man,- ‘Tis said he once was tall. For five-and-thirty years he lived A running huntsman merry; And still the centre of his cheek Is red as a ripe cherry. […]
Siege Of Vienna Raised By Jihn Sobieski by William Wordsworth
FEBRUARY 1816 OH, for a kindling touch from that pure flame Which ministered, erewhile, to a sacrifice Of gratitude, beneath Italian skies, In words like these: ‘Up, Voice of song! proclaim ‘Thy saintly rapture with celestial aim: ‘For lo! the Imperial City stands released ‘From bondage threatened by the embattled East, ‘And Christendom respires; from […]
She Was A Phantom Of Delight by William Wordsworth
She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment’s ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight’s, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To […]
September, 1819 by William Wordsworth
Departing summer hath assumed An aspect tenderly illumed, The gentlest look of spring; That calls from yonder leafy shade Unfaded, yet prepared to fade, A timely carolling. No faint and hesitating trill, Such tribute as to winter chill The lonely redbreast pays! Clear, loud, and lively is the din, From social warblers gathering in Their […]
September 1815 by William Wordsworth
WHILE not a leaf seems faded; while the fields, With ripening harvest prodigally fair, In brightest sunshine bask; this nipping air, Sent from some distant clime where Winter wields His icy scimitar, a foretaste yields Of bitter change, and bids the flowers beware; And whispers to the silent birds, “Prepare Against the threatening foe your […]
September 1, 1802 by William Wordsworth
WE had a female Passenger who came From Calais with us, spotless in array,– A white-robed Negro, like a lady gay, Yet downcast as a woman fearing blame; Meek, destitute, as seemed, of hope or aim She sate, from notice turning not away, But on all proffered intercourse did lay A weight of languid speech, […]
Scorn Not The Sonnet by William Wordsworth
Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch’s wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camöens soothed an exile’s grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the […]
Say, What Is Honour?–‘Tis The Finest Sense by William Wordsworth
SAY, what is Honour?–‘Tis the finest sense Of ‘justice’ which the human mind can frame, Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim, And guard the way of life from all offence Suffered or done. When lawless violence Invades a Realm, so pressed that in the scale Of perilous war her weightiest armies fail, Honour is hopeful […]
Ruth by William Wordsworth
WHEN Ruth was left half desolate, Her Father took another Mate; And Ruth, not seven years old, A slighted child, at her own will Went wandering over dale and hill, In thoughtless freedom, bold. And she had made a pipe of straw, And music from that pipe could draw Like sounds of winds and floods; […]
Rural Architecture by William Wordsworth
THERE’S George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore, Three rosy-cheeked school-boys, the highest not more Than the height of a counsellor’s bag; To the top of Great How did it please them to climb: And there they built up, without mortar or lime, A Man on the peak of the crag. They built him of […]
Resolution And Independence by William Wordsworth
There was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods; Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods; The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters; And all the air is […]
Repentance by William Wordsworth
A PASTORAL BALLAD THE fields which with covetous spirit we sold, Those beautiful fields, the delight of the day, Would have brought us more good than a burthen of gold, Could we but have been as contented as they. When the troublesome Tempter beset us, said I, “Let him come, with his purse proudly grasped […]