O'er the wide earth, on mountain and on plain,Dwells in the affections and the soul of manA Godhead, like the universal PAN;But more exalted, with a brighter train:And shall his bounty be dispensed in vain,Showered equally on city and on field,And neither hope nor steadfast promise yieldIn these usurping times of fear and pain?Such doom awaits us. Nay, forbid it Heaven!We know … [Read more...] about O’er The Wide Earth, On Mountain And On Plain, By: William Wordsworth
Oxford, May 30, 1820, By: William Wordsworth
Ye sacred Nurseries of blooming Youth!In whose collegiate shelter England's FlowersExpand, enjoying through their vernal hoursThe air of liberty, the light of truth;Much have ye suffered from Time's gnawing tooth:Yet, O ye spires of Oxford! domes and towers!Gardens and groves! your presence overpowersThe soberness of reason; till, in sooth,Transformed, and rushing on a bold … [Read more...] about Oxford, May 30, 1820, By: William Wordsworth
Once I Could Hail, By: William Wordsworth
"Late, late yestreen I saw the new mooneWi' the auld moone in hir arme."'Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, Percy's Reliques.' Once I could hail (howe'er serene the sky)The Moon re-entering her monthly round,No faculty yet given me to espyThe dusky Shape within her arms imbound,That thin memento of effulgence lostWhich some have named her Predecessor's ghost. Young, like the … [Read more...] about Once I Could Hail, By: William Wordsworth
On The Sight Of A Manse In The South Of Scotland, By: William Wordsworth
Say, ye far-traveled clouds, far-seeing hillsAmong the happiest-looking homes of menScattered all Britain over, through deep glen,On airy upland, and by forest rills,And o'er wide plains cheered by the lark that trillsHis sky-born warblings, does aught meet your kenMore fit to animate the Poet's pen,Aught that more surely by its aspect fillsPure minds with sinless envy, than … [Read more...] about On The Sight Of A Manse In The South Of Scotland, By: William Wordsworth
On The Same Subject (To A Painter), By: William Wordsworth
Though I beheld at first with blank surpriseThis Work, I now have gazed on it so longI see its truth with unreluctant eyes;O, my Beloved! I have done thee wrong,Conscious of blessedness, but, whence it sprung,Ever too heedless, as I now perceive:Morn into noon did pass, noon into eve,And the old day was welcome as the young,As welcome and as beautiful, in soothMore beautiful, … [Read more...] about On The Same Subject (To A Painter), By: William Wordsworth