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What crowd is this? what have we here! we must not pass it by;A Telescope upon its frame, and pointed to the sky:Long is it as a barber's pole, or mast of little boat,Some little pleasure-skiff, that doth on Thames's waters float. The Showman chooses well his place, 'tis Leicester's busy Square;And is as happy in his night, for the heavens are blue and fair;Calm, though … [Read more...] about Star-Gazers, By: William Wordsworth

Within our happy Castle there dwelt OneWhom without blame I may not overlook;For never sun on living creature shoneWho more devout enjoyment with us took:Here on his hours he hung as on a book,On his own time here would he float away,As doth a fly upon a summer brook;But go to-morrow, or belike to-day,Seek for him, he is fled; and whither none can say. Thus often would he … [Read more...] about Stanzas Written In My Pocket Copy Of Thomson’s “Castle Of Indolence,” By: William Wordsworth

If Life were slumber on a bed of down,Toil unimposed, vicissitude unknown,Sad were our lot: no hunter of the hareExults like him whose javelin from the lairHas roused the lion; no one plucks the rose,Whose proffered beauty in safe shelter blows'Mid a trim garden's summer luxuries,With joy like his who climbs, on hands and knees,For some rare plant, yon Headland of St. … [Read more...] about Stanzas Suggested In A Steamboat Off Saint Bees’ Heads, On The Coast Of Cumberland, By: William Wordsworth

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 Crescent that above me shone,Nought I perceived within it dull or dim;All that appeared was suitable to OneWhose fancy had a … [Read more...] about Stanzas, By: William Wordsworth

Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plantOf such weak fibre that the treacherous airOf absence withers what was once so fair?Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant?Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilantBound to thy service with unceasing care,The mind’s least generous wish a mendicantFor nought but what thy happiness could spare.Speak though this soft warm heart, once … [Read more...] about Speak!, By: William Wordsworth