A winged Goddess, clothed in vesture wrought
Of rainbow colours; One whose port was bold,
Whose overburthened hand could scarcely hold
The glittering crowns and garlands which it brought
Hovered in air above the far-famed Spot.
She vanished; leaving prospect blank and cold
Of wind-swept corn that wide around us rolled
In dreary billows; wood, and meagre cot,
And monuments that soon must disappear:
Yet a dread local recompense we found;
While glory seemed betrayed, while patriot-zeal
Sank in our hearts, we felt as men ‘should’ feel
With such vast hoards of hidden carnage near,
And horror breathing from the silent ground!
Read all of William Wordsworth's poems · About William Wordsworth
More by William Wordsworth
- Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 - IX. - Hymn - For The Boatmen, As They Approach The Rapids Under The Castle Of Heidelberg
- Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 - V. - Between Namur And Liege
- Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 - VI. - Aix-La-Chapelle
- Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 - VII. - In The Cathedral At Cologne
- Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 - VIII. - In A Carriage, Upon The Banks Of The Rhine
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