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"Hign bliss is only for a higher state,"But, surely, if severe afflictions borneWith patience merit the reward of peace,Peace ye deserve; and may the solid good,Sought by a wise though late exchange, and hereWith bounteous hand beneath a cottage-roofTo you accorded, never be withdrawn,Nor for the world's best promises renounced.Most soothing was it for a welcome Friend,Fresh … [Read more...] about Farewell Lines, By: William Wordsworth

The Lovers took within this ancient groveTheir last embrace; beside those crystal springsThe Hermit saw the Angel spread his wingsFor instant flight; the Sage in yon alcoveSate musing; on that hill the Bard would rove,Not mute, where now the linnet only sings:Thus everywhere to truth Tradition clings,Or Fancy localises Powers we love.Were only History licensed to take noteOf … [Read more...] about Fancy And Tradition, By: William Wordsworth

Fair Prime of life! were it enough to gildWith ready sunbeams every straggling shower;And, if an unexpected cloud should lower,Swiftly thereon a rainbow arch to buildFor Fancy's errands, then, from fields half-tilledGathering green weeds to mix with poppy flower,Thee might thy Minions crown, and chant thy power,Unpitied by the wise, all censure stilled.Ah! show that worthier … [Read more...] about Fair Prime Of Life! Were It Enough To Gild, By: William Wordsworth

Dear native regions, I foretell,From what I feel at this farewell,That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend,And whensoe'er my course shall end,If in that hour a single tieSurvive of local sympathy,My soul will cast the backward view,The longing look alone on you. Thus, while the Sun sinks down to restFar in the regions of the west,Though to the vale no parting beamBe given, not … [Read more...] about Extract From The Conclusion Of A Poem, By: William Wordsworth

When first, descending from the moorlands,I saw the Stream of Yarrow glideAlong a bare and open valley,The Ettrick Shepherd was my guide. When last along its banks I wandered,Through groves that had begun to shedTheir golden leaves upon the pathways,My steps the Border-minstrel led. The mighty Minstrel breathes no longer,'Mid mouldering ruins low he lies;And death upon … [Read more...] about Extempore Effusion Upon The Death Of James Hogg, By: William Wordsworth