Poems

I You have heard "a Spanish LadyHow she wooed an English man;"Hear now of a fair Armenian,Daughter of the proud Soldan;How she loved a Christian slave, and told her painBy word, look, deed, with hope that he might love again. II "Pluck that rose, it moves my liking,"Said she, lifting up her veil;"Pluck it for me, gentle gardener,Ere it wither and grow pale.""Princess … [Read more...] about The Armenian Lady’s Love, By: William Wordsworth

I Where art thou, my beloved Son,Where art thou, worse to me than dead?Oh find me, prosperous or undone!Or, if the grave be now thy bed,Why am I ignorant of the sameThat I may rest; and neither blameNor sorrow may attend thy name? II Seven years, alas! to have receivedNo tidings of an only child;To have despaired, have hoped, believed,And been for evermore … [Read more...] about The Affliction Of Margaret, By: William Wordsworth

Surprised by joy, impatient as the WindI turned to share the transport, Oh! with whomBut Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,That spot which no vicissitude can find?Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind,But how could I forget thee? Through what power,Even for the least division of an hour,Have I been so beguiled as to be blindTo my most grievous loss! That thought's … [Read more...] about Surprised By Joy, By: William Wordsworth

Tranquility! the sovereign aim wert thouIn heathen schools of philosophic lore;Heart-stricken by stern destiny of yoreThe Tragic Muse thee served with thoughtful vow;And what of hope Elysium could allowWas fondly seized by Sculpture, to restorePeace to the Mourner. But when He who woreThe crown of thorns around his bleeding browWarmed our sad being with celestial light,'Then' … [Read more...] about Suggested By The Foregoing – Monument Of Mrs. Howard, By: William Wordsworth

The forest huge of ancient CaledonIs but a name, no more is Inglewood,That swept from hill to hill, from flood to flood:On her last thorn the nightly moon has shone;Yet still, though unappropriate Wild be none,Fair parks spread wide where Adam Bell might deignWith Clym o' the Clough, were they alive again,To kill for merry feast their venison.Nor wants the holy Abbot's gliding … [Read more...] about Suggested By A View From An Eminence In Inglewood Forest, By: William Wordsworth