![Calm Is All Nature As A Resting Wheel, By: William Wordsworth](https://i0.wp.com/poetrycatalog.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Calm-Is-All-Nature-As-A-Resting-Wheel-By-William-Wordsworth.png?resize=750%2C420&ssl=1)
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his later meal:
Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal
O’er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky.
Now, in this blank of things, a harmony,
Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal
That grief for which the senses still supply
Fresh food; for only then, when memory
Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain
Those busy cares that would allay my pain;
Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel
The officious touch that makes me droop again.