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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 look'd every dayFresh as a rose in June,I to her cottage bent my way,Beneath an evening moon. Upon the moon I fix'd my eye,All over the wide lea;With quickening pace my horse drew nighThose paths so dear to me. And now we reach'd the … [Read more...] about Lucy I, By: William Wordsworth

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray,And when I cross'd the Wild,I chanc'd to see at break of dayThe solitary Child. No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew;She dwelt on a wild Moor,The sweetest Thing that ever grewBeside a human door! You yet may spy the Fawn at play,The Hare upon the Green;But the sweet face of Lucy GrayWill never more be seen. "To-night will be a stormy night,You to … [Read more...] about Lucy Gray, By: William Wordsworth

Lowther! in thy majestic Pile are seenCathedral pomp and grace, in apt accordWith the baronial castle's sterner mien;Union significant of God adored,And charters won and guarded by the swordOf ancient honour; whence that goodly stateOf polity which wise men venerate,And will maintain, if God his help afford.Hourly the democratic torrent swells;For airy promises and hopes … [Read more...] about Lowther, By: William Wordsworth

There's more in words than I can teach:Yet listen, Child! I would not preach;But only give some plain directionsTo guide your speech and your affections.Say not you 'love' a roasted fowl,But you may love a screaming owl.And, if you can, the unwieldy toadThat crawls from his secure abodeWithin the mossy garden wallWhen evening dews begin to fall.Oh mark the beauty of his … [Read more...] about Loving And Liking – Irregular Verses – Addressed To A Child (By My Sister), By: William Wordsworth

You call it, "Love lies bleeding," so you may,Though the red Flower, not prostrate, only droops,As we have seen it here from day to day,From month to month, life passing not away:A flower how rich in sadness! Even thus stoops,(Sentient by Grecian sculpture's marvelous power)Thus leans, with hanging brow and body bentEarthward in uncomplaining languishmentThe dying Gladiator. … [Read more...] about Love Lies Bleeding, By: William Wordsworth