Editors

I "Rest, rest, perturbed Earth!O rest, thou doleful Mother of Mankind!"A Spirit sang in tones more plaintive than the wind:"From regions where no evil thing has birthI come thy stains to wash away,Thy cherished fetters to unbind,And open thy sad eyes upon a milder day.The Heavens are thronged with martyrs that have risenFrom out thy noisome prison;The penal caverns groanWith … [Read more...] about Invocation To The Earth, February 1816, By: William Wordsworth

Intent on gathering wool from hedge and brakeYon busy Little-ones rejoice that soonA poor old Dame will bless them for the boon:Great is their glee while flake they add to flakeWith rival earnestness; far other strifeThan will hereafter move them, if they makePastime their idol, give their day of lifeTo pleasure snatched for reckless pleasure's sake.Can pomp and show allay one … [Read more...] about Intent On Gathering Wool From Hedge And Brake, By: William Wordsworth

Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense,With ill-matched aims the Architect who plannedAlbeit labouring for a scanty bandOf white-robed Scholars only, this immenseAnd glorious Work of fine intelligence!Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the loreOf nicely-calculated less or more;So deemed the man who fashioned for the senseThese lofty pillars, spread that branching … [Read more...] about Inside Of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge, By: William Wordsworth

Stranger! this hillock of mis-shapen stonesIs not a Ruin spared or made by time,Nor, as perchance thou rashly deem'st, the CairnOf some old British Chief: 'tis nothing moreThan the rude embryo of a little DomeOr Pleasure-house, once destined to be builtAmong the birch-trees of this rocky isle.But, as it chanced, Sir William having learnedThat from the shore a full-grown man … [Read more...] about Inscriptions Written With A Slate Pencil Upon A Stone, By: William Wordsworth

Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seenBuildings, albeit rude, that have maintainedProportions more harmonious, and approachedTo closer fellowship with ideal grace.But take it in good part:, alas! the poorVitruvius of our village had no helpFrom the great City; never, upon leavesOf red Morocco folio, saw displayed,In long succession, pre-existing ghostsOf Beauties yet unborn, … [Read more...] about Inscriptions Written With A Pencil Upon A Stone In The Wall Of The House (An Outhouse), On The Island At Grasmere., By: William Wordsworth