Editors

Behold an emblem of our human mindCrowded with thoughts that need a settled home,Yet, like to eddying balls of foamWithin this whirlpool, they each other chaseRound and round, and neither findAn outlet nor a resting-place!Stranger, if such disquietude be thine,Fall on thy knees and sue for help divine. … [Read more...] about On The Banks Of A Rocky Stream, By: William Wordsworth

When haughty expectations prostrate lie,And grandeur crouches like a guilty thing,Oft shall the lowly weak, till nature bringMature release, in fair societySurvive, and Fortune's utmost anger try;Like these frail snowdrops that together cling,And nod their helmets, smitten by the wingOf many a furious whirl-blast sweeping by.Observe the faithful flowers! if small to greatMay … [Read more...] about On Seeing A Tuft Of Snowdrops In A Storm, By: William Wordsworth

Frowns are on every Muse's face,Reproaches from their lips are sent,That mimicry should thus disgraceThe noble Instrument. A very Harp in all but size!Needles for strings in apt gradation!Minerva's self would stigmatizeThe unclassic profanation. Even her 'own' needle that subduedArachne's rival spirit,Though wrought in Vulcan's happiest mood,Such honour could not … [Read more...] about On Seeing A Needlecase In The Form Of A Harp – The Work Of E.M.S., By: William Wordsworth

The captive Bird was gone; to cliff or moorPerchance had flown, delivered by the storm;Or he had pined, and sunk to feed the worm:Him found we not: but, climbing, a tall tower,There saw, impaved with rude fidelityOf art mosaic, in a roofless floor,An Eagle with stretched wings, but beamless eyeAn Eagle that could neither wail nor soar.Effigy of the Vanished, (shall I dareTo … [Read more...] about On Revisiting Dunolly Castle, By: William Wordsworth

The feudal Keep, the bastions of Cohorn,Even when they rose to check or to repelTides of aggressive war, oft served as wellGreedy ambition, armed to treat with scornJust limits; but yon Tower, whose smiles adornThis perilous bay, stands clear of all offense;Blest work it is of love and innocence,A Tower of refuge built for the else forlorn.Spare it, ye waves, and lift the … [Read more...] about On Entering Douglas Bay, Isle Of Man, By: William Wordsworth