Poems

A book came forth of late, called PETER BELL;Not negligent the style; the matter? goodAs aught that song records of Robin Hood;Or Roy, renowned through many a Scottish dell;But some (who brook those hackneyed themes full well,Nor heat, at Tam o' Shanter's name, their blood)Waxed wroth, and with foul claws, a harpy brood,On Bard and Hero clamorously fell.Heed not, wild Rover … [Read more...] about On The Detraction Which Followed The Publication Of A Certain Poem, By: William Wordsworth

A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,Nor of the setting sun's pathetic lightEngendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height:Spirits of Power, assembled there, complainFor kindred Power departing from their sight;While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain,Saddens his voice again, and yet again.Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners! for the mightOf the whole world's good … [Read more...] about On The Departure Of Sir Walter Scott From Abbotsford, By: William Wordsworth

Ward of the Law! dread Shadow of a King!Whose realm had dwindled to one stately room;Whose universe was gloom immersed in gloom,Darkness as thick as life o'er life could fling,Save haply for some feeble glimmeringOf Faith and Hope if thou, by nature's doom,Gently hast sunk into the quiet tomb,Why should we bend in grief, to sorrow cling,When thankfulness were best? … [Read more...] about On The Death Of His Majesty (George The Third), By: William Wordsworth

The snow falls. Soft in its nature and delicately places itself on slate and cobblestone.It knows not its destiny, nor its present state. The snowflake, simply is... The flurried, misty made sky weighs heavy like a clouded, muddied snow globe, making sure to ensnare every evergreen and brittle, snow-covered branchin its hazy, suffocating, mauling grasp. The bare, Ice … [Read more...] about The Snowflake, By: Grace McNiece

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