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"And has the Sun his flaming chariot drivenTwo hundred times around the ring of heaven,Since Science first, with all her sacred train,Beneath yon roof began her heavenly reign?While thus I mused, methought, before mine eyes,The Power of Education seemed to rise;Not she whose rigid precepts trained the boyDead to the sense of every finer joy;Nor that vile wretch who bade the … [Read more...] about Lines Written As A School Exercise, By: William Wordsworth

Beguiled into forgetfulness of careDue to the day's unfinished task; of penOr book regardless, and of that fair sceneIn Nature's prodigality displayedBefore my window, oftentimes and longI gaze upon a Portrait whose mild gleamOf beauty never ceases to enrichThe common light; whose stillness charms the air,Or seems to charm it, into like repose;Whose silence, for the pleasure of … [Read more...] about Lines Suggested By A Portrait From The Pencil Of F. Stone, By: William Wordsworth

Come ye who, if (which Heaven avert!) the LandWere with herself at strife, would take your stand,Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch's side,And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your prideCome ye who, not less zealous, might displayBanners at enmity with regal sway,And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day,Think that a State would live in sounder healthIf Kingship bowed its head … [Read more...] about Lines On The Expected Invasion, 1803, By: William Wordsworth

Five years have past; five summers, with the lengthOf five long winters! and again I hearThese waters, rolling from their mountain-springsWith a soft inland murmur., Once againDo I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,That on a wild secluded scene impressThoughts of more deep seclusion; and connectThe landscape with the quiet of the sky.The day is come when I again reposeHere, … [Read more...] about Lines Composed A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey, By: William Wordsworth

Loud is the Vale! the Voice is upWith which she speaks when storms are gone,A mighty unison of streams!Of all her Voices, One! Loud is the Vale; this inland DepthIn peace is roaring like the SeaYon star upon the mountain-topIs listening quietly. Sad was I, even to pain deprest,Importunate and heavy load!The Comforter hath found me here,Upon this lonely road; And many … [Read more...] about Lines, By: William Wordsworth