Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven
This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven;
The rueful conflict, the heart riven
With vain endeavour,
And memory of earth's bitter leaven
Effaced forever.
William Wordsworth
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Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart!
... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Brook! whose society the poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH And when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The Thing became a trumpet; whence ... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A famous man is Robin Hood
The English ballad-singer's joy. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and wer... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH O blithe New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice;
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH List--'twas the cuckoo--O, with what delight
Heard I that voice! and catch it now, though faint,
... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH I look for ghosts; but none will force
Their way to me; 'tis falsely said
That even there was ... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
Of it... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Of vast circumference and gloom profound,
This solitary Tree! A living thing
Produced too slo... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH How blessings brighten as they take their flight. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
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Under the sky's gray arch;
Smiling I watch the... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH We meet thee, like a pleasant thought,
When such are wanted. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH The poet's darling. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
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And at my easement sing,
Though it should prove a farewell... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Now when the primrose makes a splendid show,
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And... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Among the dwellings framed by birds
In field or forest with nice care,
Is none that with the l... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH We take no note of time
But from its loss. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays,
And confident to-morrows. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH And beauty, for confiding youth,
Those shocks of passion can prepare
That kill the bloom befor... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the b... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH The swan on still St. Mary's lake
Float double, swan and shadow! WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Art thou the bird whom Man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little Engl... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH He could afford to suffer
With those whom he saw suffer. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Life's cares are comforts; such by heaven design'd
He that has none, must make them or be wretched... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows
That for oblivion that their daily birth
From all t... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among tr... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH As thou these ashes, little brook! will bear
Into the Avon, Avon to the tide
Of Severn, Sever... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Like--but oh! how different! WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Sad fancies do we then affect,
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
Of too... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of i... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH The holy time is quiet as a Nun
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Had trod the banks of Clyde and Ta... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
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Will not depart when mortal voices bid. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Lady of the Mere,
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Preserves her beauty 'mid autumnal leaves
An... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to ... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Hail to thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, linnet! in thy green array... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH The intellectual power, through words and things,
Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way! WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
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Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from a... WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Meek Walton's heavenly memory. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Methought I say the footsteps of a throne.
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In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill;
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There's something in a huge balloon. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
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