Editors

The Spirit of Antiquity, enshrinedIn sumptuous buildings, vocal in sweet song,In picture, speaking with heroic tongue,And with devout solemnities entwined,Mounts to the seat of grace within the mind:Hence Forms that glide with swan-like ease along,Hence motions, even amid the vulgar throng,To an harmonious decency confined:As if the streets were consecrated ground,The city one … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 – III. – Bruges, By: William Wordsworth

Bruges I saw attired with golden light(Streamed from the west) as with a robe of power:The splendour fled; and now the sunless hour,That, slowly making way for peaceful night,Best suits with fallen grandeur, to my sightOffers the beauty, the magnificence,And sober graces, left her for defenseAgainst the injuries of time, the spiteOf fortune, and the desolating stormsOf future … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 – II. – Bruges, By: William Wordsworth

'Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfoldThe likeness of whate'er on land is seen;But, if the Nereid Sisters and their Queen,Above whose heads the tide so long hath rolled,The Dames resemble whom we here behold,How fearful were it down through opening wavesTo sink, and meet them in their fretted caves,Withered grotesque, immeasurably old,And shrill and fierce in accent! Fear it … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 – I. Fish-Women – On Landing At Calais, By: William Wordsworth

Dear Fellow-travellers! think not that the Muse,To You presenting these memorial Lays,Can hope the general eye thereon would gaze,As on a mirror that gives back the huesOf living Nature; no, though free to chooseThe greenest bowers, the most inviting ways,The fairest landscapes and the brightest days,Her skill she tried with less ambitious views.For You she wrought: Ye only can … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 – Dedication, By: William Wordsworth

In this still place, remote from men,Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN;In this still place, where murmurs onBut one meek streamlet, only one:He sang of battles, and the breathOf stormy war, and violent death;And should, methinks, when all was past,Have rightfully been laid at lastWhere rocks were rudely heaped, and rentAs by a spirit turbulent;Where sights were rough, and … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour Of Scotland, 1803 VI. Glen-Almain, Or, The Narrow Glen. By: William Wordsworth