“And Is It Among Rude Untutored Dales” by William Wordsworth

AND is it among rude untutored Dales, There, and there only, that the heart is true? And, rising to repel or to subdue, Is it by rocks and woods that man prevails? Ah no! though Nature’s dread protection fails, There is a bulwark in the soul. This knew Iberian Burghers when the sword they drew […]

An Evening Walk by William Wordsworth

Addressed To A Young Lady FAR from my dearest Friend, ’tis mine to rove Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove; Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; Where peace to Grasmere’s lonely island leads, To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads; Leads to […]

Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been by William Wordsworth

AMONG all lovely things my Love had been; Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew About her home; but she had never seen A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew. While riding near her home one stormy night A single glow-worm did I chance to espy; I gave a fervent welcome to […]

Alice Fell, Or Poverty by William Wordsworth

THE post-boy drove with fierce career, For threatening clouds the moon had drowned; When, as we hurried on, my ear Was smitten with a startling sound. As if the wind blew many ways, I heard the sound,-and more and more; It seemed to follow with the chaise, And still I heard it as before. At […]

After-Thought by William Wordsworth

. I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide, As being past away.-Vain sympathies! For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes, I see what was, and is, and will abide; Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies; While we, the brave, the mighty, and […]

“Advance – Come Forth From Thy Tyrolean Ground” by William Wordsworth

ADVANCE-come forth from thy Tyrolean ground, Dear Liberty! stern Nymph of soul untamed; Sweet Nymph, O rightly of the mountains named! Through the long chain of Alps from mound to mound And o’er the eternal snows, like Echo, bound; Like Echo, when the hunter train at dawn Have roused her from her sleep: and forest-lawn, […]

Admonition by William Wordsworth

WELL may’st thou halt-and gaze with brightening eye! The lovely Cottage in the guardian nook Hath stirred thee deeply; with its own dear brook, Its own small pasture, almost its own sky! But covet not the Abode;-forbear to sigh, As many do, repining while they look; Intruders-who would tear from Nature’s book This precious leaf, […]

Address To The Scholars Of The Village School Of — by William Wordsworth

I COME, ye little noisy Crew, Not long your pastime to prevent; I heard the blessing which to you Our common Friend and Father sent. I kissed his cheek before he died; And when his breath was fled, I raised, while kneeling by his side, His hand:-it dropped like lead. Your hands, dear Little-ones, do […]

Address To Kilchurn Castle, Upon Loch Awe by William Wordsworth

CHILD of loud-throated War! the mountain Stream Roars in thy hearing; but thy hour of rest Is come, and thou art silent in thy age; Save when the wind sweeps by and sounds are caught Ambiguous, neither wholly thine nor theirs. Oh! there is life that breathes not; Powers there are That touch each other […]

A Wren’s Nest by William Wordsworth

AMONG the dwellings framed by birds In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little Wren’s In snugness may compare. No door the tenement requires, And seldom needs a laboured roof; Yet is it to the fiercest sun Impervious, and storm-proof. So warm, so beautiful withal, In perfect fitness for its […]

A Whirl-Blast From Behind The Hill by William Wordsworth

A Whirl-Blast from behind the hill Rushed o’er the wood with startling sound; Then-all at once the air was still, And showers of hailstones pattered round. Where leafless oaks towered high above, I sat within an undergrove Of tallest hollies, tall and green; A fairer bower was never seen. From year to year the spacious […]

A Prophecy. February 1807 by William Wordsworth

HIGH deeds, O Germans, are to come from you! Thus in your books the record shall be found, “A watchword was pronounced, a potent sound– ARMINIUS!–all the people quaked like dew Stirred by the breeze; they rose, a Nation, true, True to herself–the mighty Germany, She of the Danube and the Northern Sea, She rose, […]

A Night Thought by William Wordsworth

Lo! where the Moon along the sky Sails with her happy destiny; Oft is she hid from mortal eye Or dimly seen, But when the clouds asunder fly How bright her mien! Far different we-a froward race, Thousands though rich in Fortune’s grace With cherished sullenness of pace Their way pursue, Ingrates who wear a […]

A Night-Piece by William Wordsworth

—The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close, Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon, Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls, Chequering the ground-from rock, plant, tree, or tower. At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam Startles […]

A Narrow Girdle Of Rough Stones And Crags, by William Wordsworth

A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags, A rude and natural causeway, interposed Between the water and a winding slope Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy: And there myself and two beloved Friends, One calm September morning, ere the mist Had altogether yielded to the […]

A Flower Garden At Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire. by William Wordsworth

TELL me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold, While fluttering o’er this gay Recess, Pinions that fanned the teeming mould Of Eden’s blissful wilderness, Did only softly-stealing hours There close the peaceful lives of flowers? Say, when the ‘moving’ creatures saw All kinds commingled without fear, Prevailed a like indulgent law For the still growths that prosper […]

A Farewell by William Wordsworth

FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain-ground, Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair Of that magnificent temple which doth bound One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare; Sweet garden-orchard, eminently fair, The loveliest spot that man hath ever found, Farewell!–we leave thee to Heaven’s peaceful care, Thee, and the Cottage which thou dost […]

A Character by William Wordsworth

I marvel how Nature could ever find space For so many strange contrasts in one human face: There’s thought and no thought, and there’s paleness and bloom And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom. There’s weakness, and strength both redundant and vain; Such strength as, if ever affliction and pain Could pierce through a temper […]

To his Indifferent Mistress by William Wycherley

I. Ah! Dear, proud Charmer, cou’d you prove At once more Cruel, or less Fair, Your Cruelty wou’d speak some Love, In turning Mine to strong Despair; For luke-warm Love, or cold Indifference, Keeps with more Pain my Flame in more Suspence. II. To make me Yours, you still disdain, Yet can’t consent to let […]

Sleep and Death by William Wycherley

O Sleep! thou dost thy healing Virtues lend, At once t’instruct our Nature, and befriend. Do’st to our wearied Limbs fresh Strength supply, And giv’st Ideas what ’twill be to die. Brother of Death! In Office how the same! Both lent us to repair our shatter’d Frame; Yet diff’ring here, that Sleep at best can […]

Love and Wine by William Wycherley

In vain I Drunkenness forswore, Because by That made Sick and Blind; Since tho’ I have the Flask giv’n o’er, Love still intoxicates my Mind. If then for either Sottishness, Alike Man’s Sense is in Disguise; No matter which way, sure, it is, By sparkling Wine, or sparkling Eyes. Yet most debauch’d the Lovers shew, […]

In Praise of Laziness by William Wycherley

    O God-like State! thou Heav’nly Laziness! Which, in thy Rags, canst thy Professors Bless, Ensure their Innocence, Peace, Ease, or Rest, Ev’n here, with Poverty, to make ’em Blest; Their Faith, and Honour, best dost justifie, Securing their Good Name, and Liberty, From Scandal, Care, Fear, Pain, and Slavery; Blest State on Earth! […]

Drinking-Song, A. To a Formal, Proud, Sober Coxcomb by William Wycherley

I. Let the Dull, Sober, and the Grave, But fit for drudging, Bus’ness have; Let sitting still, my Hand employ, My busie Tongue, not thoughtless Head; Employment, which wou’d Cares destroy, Not such, by which, more still are bred; II. Let all Ambitious Sots flie high, To make their Steps more slippery, Whilst I, with […]

A Consolation to Cuckholds by William Wycherley poems

Injurious, spightful, and ill-judging Town, To cry the Trade of Cuckold-making down! When by it half your Sons to Honours rise, And raise their Fortunes, and their Families: Why then should that be deem’d Disgrace, or Shame, To which so many owe their Wealth and Name And so gain Honour, ev’n in Spight of Fame? […]

What Reward? by Winifred Mary Letts

You gave your life. Boy. And you gave a limb: But he who gave his precious wits, Say, what regard for him? One had his glory, One has found his rest. But what of this poor babbler here With chin sunk on his breast? Flotsam of battle, With brain bemused and dim, O God, for […]

To A Soldier In Hospital by Winifred Mary Letts

Courage came to you with your boyhood’s grace Of ardent life and limb. Each day new dangers steeled you to the test, To ride, to climb, to swim. Your hot blood taught you carelessness of death With every breath. So when you went to play another game You could not but be brave: An Empire’s […]

To A May Baby by Winifred Mary Letts

To come at tulip time how wise! Perhaps you will not now regret The shining gardens, jewel set, Of your first home in Paradise Nor fret Because you might not quite forget. To come at swallow-time how wise! When every bird has built a nest; Now you may fold your wings and rest And watch […]

Tim, An Irish Terrier by Winifred Mary Letts

It’s wonderful dogs they’re breeding now: Small as a flea or large as a cow; But my old lad Tim he’ll never be bet By any dog that he ever met, Come on ‘says he’for I’m not kilt yet! No matter the size of the dog he’ll meet, Tim trails his coat the length o’the […]

The Spires Of Oxford by Winifred Mary Letts

I saw the spires of Oxford As I was passing by, The gray spires of Oxford Against the pearl-gray sky. My heart was with the Oxford men Who went abroad to die. The years go fast in Oxford, The golden years and gay, The hoary Colleges look down On careless boys at play. But when […]

The Kerry Cow by Winifred Mary Letts

IT’S in Connacht or in Munster that yourself might travel wide, And be asking all the herds you’d meet along the countryside, But you’d never meet a one could shew the likes of her till now, Where she’s grazing in a Leinster field my little Kerry cow. If herself went to the cattle fairs she’d […]

The Harbour by Winifred Mary Letts

I think if I lay dying in some land Where Ireland is no more than just a name, My soul would travel back to find that strand From whence it came. I’d see the harbour in the evening light, The old men staring at some distant ship, The fishing boats they fasten left and right […]

The Deserter by Winifred Mary Letts

There was a man, – don’t mind his name, Whom Fear had dogged by night and day. He could not face the German guns And so he turned and ran away. Just that – he turned and ran away, But who can judge him, you or I ? God makes a man of flesh and […]

The Connaught Rangers by Winifred Mary Letts

I SAW the Connaught Rangers when they were passing by, On a spring day, a good day, with gold rifts in the sky. Themselves were marching steadily along the Liffey quay An’ I see the young proud look of them as if it were to-day! The bright lads, the right lads, I have them in […]

The Call To Arms In Our Street by Winifred Mary Letts

There’s a woman sobs her heart out, With her head against the door, For the man that’s called to leave her, – God have pity on the poor! But its beat, drums, beat While the lads march down the street, And its blow, trumpets blow, Keep your tears until they go. There’s a crowd of […]

Synge’s Grave by Winifred Mary Letts

MY grief! that they have laid you in the town Within the moidher of its thousand wheels And busy feet that travel up and down. They had a right to choose a better bed Far off among the hills where silence steals In on the soul with comfort-bringing tread. The curlew would have keened for […]

Screens (In a Hospital) by Winifred Mary Letts

They put the screens around his bed; a crumpled heap I saw him lie, White counterpane and rough dark head, those screens – they showed that he would die. The put the screens about his bed; We might not play the gramophone, And so we played at cards instead And left him dying there alone. […]