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Grant, that by this unsparing hurricaneGreen leaves with yellow mixed are torn away,And goodly fruitage with the mother spray;'Twere madness, wished we, therefore, to detain,With hands stretched forth in mollified disdain,The "trumpery" that ascends in bare displayBulls, pardons, relics, cowls black, white, and greyUpwhirled, and flying o'er the ethereal plainFast bound for … [Read more...] about Ecclesiastical Sonnets – Part II. – XXVIII – Reflections, By: William Wordsworth

Deep is the lamentation! Not aloneFrom Sages justly honoured by mankind;But from the ghostly tenants of the wind,Demons and Spirits, many a dolorous groanIssues for that dominion overthrown:Proud Tiber grieves, and far-off Ganges, blindAs his own worshipers: and Nile, reclinedUpon his monstrous urn, the farewell moanRenews. Through every forest, cave, and den,Where frauds were … [Read more...] about Ecclesiastical Sonnets – Part II. – XXVII – Imaginative Regrets, By: William Wordsworth

Not utterly unworthy to endureWas the supremacy of crafty Rome;Age after age to the arch of ChristendomAerial keystone haughtily secure;Supremacy from Heaven transmitted pure,As many hold; and, therefore, to the tombPass, some through fire and by the scaffold someLike saintly Fisher, and unbending More."Lightly for both the bosom's lord did sit"Upon his throne;" unsoftened, … [Read more...] about Ecclesiastical Sonnets – Part II. – XXVI – Apology, By: William Wordsworth

Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrostWith the least shade of thought to sin allied;Woman! above all women glorified,Our tainted nature's solitary boast;Purer than foam on central ocean tost;Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewnWith fancied roses, than the unblemished moonBefore her wane begins on heaven's blue coast;Thy Image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween,Not … [Read more...] about Ecclesiastical Sonnets – Part II. – XXV – The Virgin, By: William Wordsworth

But, to outweigh all harm, the sacred Book,In dusty sequestration wrapt too long,Assumes the accents of our native tongue;And he who guides the plough, or wields the crook,With understanding spirit now may lookUpon her records, listen to her song,And sift her laws, much wondering that the wrong,Which Faith has suffered, Heaven could calmly brook.Transcendent boon! noblest that … [Read more...] about Ecclesiastical Sonnets – Part II. – XXIX – Translation Of The Bible, By: William Wordsworth