Lines On The Expected Invasion, 1803 by William Wordsworth
COME ye–who, if (which Heaven avert!) the Land Were with herself at strife, would take your stand, Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch’s side, And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your pride– Come ye–who, not less zealous, might display Banners at enmity with regal sway, And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day, Think that […]
It was an April morning: fresh and clear by William Wordsworth
It was an April morning: fresh and clear The Rivulet, delighting in its strength, Ran with a young man’s speed; and yet the voice Of waters which the winter had supplied Was softened down into a vernal tone. The spirit of enjoyment and desire, And hopes and wishes, from all living things Went circling, like […]
It Is No Spirit Who From Heaven Hath Flown by William Wordsworth
IT is no Spirit who from heaven hath flown, And is descending on his embassy; Nor Traveller gone from earth the heavens to espy! ‘Tis Hesperus–there he stands with glittering crown, First admonition that the sun is down! For yet it is broad day-light: clouds pass by; A few are near him still–and now the […]
It Is a Beauteous Evening by William Wordsworth
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquility; The gentleness of heaven broods o’er the sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder – everlastingly. […]
Is There A Power That Can Sustain And Cheer by William Wordsworth
Is there a power that can sustain and cheer The captive chieftain, by a tyrant’s doom, Forced to descend into his destined tomb– A dungeon dark! where he must waste the year, And lie cut off from all his heart holds dear; What time his injured country is a stage Whereon deliberate Valour and the […]
Inside of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge by William Wordsworth
. Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense, With ill-matched aims the Architect who planned- Albeit labouring for a scanty band Of white-robed Scholars only-this immense And glorious Work of fine intelligence! Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore Of nicely-calculated less or more; So deemed the man who fashioned for the […]
Inscriptions Written with a Slate Pencil upon a Stone by William Wordsworth
Stranger! this hillock of mis-shapen stones Is not a Ruin spared or made by time, Nor, as perchance thou rashly deem’st, the Cairn Of some old British Chief: ’tis nothing more Than the rude embryo of a little Dome Or Pleasure-house, once destined to be built Among the birch-trees of this rocky isle. But, as […]
Indignation Of A High-Minded Spaniard by William Wordsworth
WE can endure that He should waste our lands, Despoil our temples, and by sword and flame Return us to the dust from which we came; Such food a Tyrant’s appetite demands: And we can brook the thought that by his hands Spain may be overpowered, and he possess, For his delight, a solemn wilderness […]
Incident Characteristic Of A Favorite Dog by William Wordsworth
ON his morning rounds the Master Goes to learn how all things fare; Searches pasture after pasture, Sheep and cattle eyes with care; And, for silence or for talk, He hath comrades in his walk; Four dogs, each pair of different breed, Distinguished two for scent, and two for speed. See a hare before him […]
In The Pass Of Killicranky by William Wordsworth
SIX thousand veterans practised in war’s game, Tried men, at Killicranky were arrayed Against an equal host that wore the plaid, Shepherds and herdsmen.–Like a whirlwind came The Highlanders, the slaughter spread like flame; And Garry, thundering down his mountain-road, Was stopped, and could not breathe beneath the load Of the dead bodies.–‘Twas a day […]
In Due Observance Of An Ancient Rite by William Wordsworth
IN due observance of an ancient rite, The rude Biscayans, when their children lie Dead in the sinless time of infancy, Attire the peaceful corse in vestments white; And, in like sign of cloudless triumph bright, They bind the unoffending creature’s brows With happy garlands of the pure white rose: Then do a festal company […]
I Grieved For Buonaparte by William Wordsworth
I GRIEVED for Buonaparte, with a vain And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood Of that Man’s mind–what can it be? what food Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could ‘he’ gain? ‘Tis not in battles that from youth we train The Governor who must be wise and good, And temper with the sternness of […]
Hoffer by William Wordsworth
OF mortal parents is the Hero born By whom the undaunted Tyrolese are led? Or is it Tell’s great Spirit, from the dead Returned to animate an age forlorn? He comes like Phoebus through the gates of morn When dreary darkness is discomfited, Yet mark his modest state! upon his head, That simple crest, a […]
Hint From The Mountains For Certain Political Pretenders by William Wordsworth
“WHO but hails the sight with pleasure When the wings of genius rise, Their ability to measure With great enterprise; But in man was ne’er such daring As yon Hawk exhibits, pairing His brave spirit with the war in The stormy skies! “Mark him, how his power he uses, Lays it by, at will resumes! […]
Here Pause: The Poet Claims At Least This Praise by William Wordsworth
HERE pause: the poet claims at least this praise, That virtuous Liberty hath been the scope Of his pure song, which did not shrink from hope In the worst moment of these evil days; From hope, the paramount ‘duty’ that Heaven lays, For its own honour, on man’s suffering heart. Never may from our souls […]
Hail, Zaragoza! If With Unwet eye by William Wordsworth
HAIL, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye We can approach, thy sorrow to behold, Yet is the heart not pitiless nor cold; Such spectacle demands not tear or sigh. These desolate remains are trophies high Of more than martial courage in the breast Of peaceful civic virtue: they attest Thy matchless worth to all posterity. Blood […]
Hail, Twilight, Sovereign Of One Peaceful Hour by William Wordsworth
HAIL Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour! Not dull art Thou as undiscerning Night; But studious only to remove from sight Day’s mutable distinctions.–Ancient Power! Thus did the waters gleam, the mountains lower, To the rude Briton, when, in wolf-skin vest Here roving wild, he laid him down to rest On the bare rock, or […]
Great Men Have Been Among Us by William Wordsworth
GREAT men have been among us; hands that penned And tongues that uttered wisdom–better none: The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington, Young Vane, and others who called Milton friend. These moralists could act and comprehend: They knew how genuine glory was put on; Taught us how rightfully nation shone In splendour: what strength was, that would […]
Gipsies by William Wordsworth
YET are they here the same unbroken knot Of human Beings, in the self-same spot! Men, women, children, yea the frame Of the whole spectacle the same! Only their fire seems bolder, yielding light, Now deep and red, the colouring of night; That on their Gipsy-faces falls, Their bed of straw and blanket-walls. –Twelve hours, […]
Feelings Of The Tyrolese by William Wordsworth
THE Land we from our fathers had in trust, And to our children will transmit, or die: This is our maxim, this our piety; And God and Nature say that it is just. That which we ‘would’ perform in arms–we must! We read the dictate in the infant’s eye; In the wife’s smile; and in […]
Feelings Of A Noble Biscayan At One Of Those Funerals by William Wordsworth
YET, yet, Biscayans! we must meet our Foes With firmer soul, yet labour to regain Our ancient freedom; else ’twere worse than vain To gather round the bier these festal shows. A garland fashioned of the pure white rose Becomes not one whose father is a slave: Oh, bear the infant covered to his grave! […]
Feelings of A French Royalist, On The Disinterment Of The Remains Of The Duke D’Enghien by William Wordsworth
DEAR Reliques! from a pit of vilest mould Uprisen–to lodge among ancestral kings; And to inflict shame’s salutary stings On the remorseless hearts of men grown old In a blind worship; men perversely bold Even to this hour,–yet, some shall now forsake Their monstrous Idol if the dead e’er spake, To warn the living; if […]
Extract From The Conclusion Of A Poem Composed In Anticipation Of Leaving School by William Wordsworth
DEAR native regions, I foretell, From what I feel at this farewell, That, wheresoe’er my steps may tend, And whensoe’er my course shall end, If in that hour a single tie Survive of local sympathy, My soul will cast the backward view, The longing look alone on you. Thus, while the Sun sinks down to […]
Expostulation and Reply by William Wordsworth
Why, William, on that old gray stone, Thus for the length of half a day, Why, William, sit you thus alone, And dream your time away? “Where are your books? – that light bequeathed To Beings else forlorn and blind! Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed From dead men to their kind. “You look […]
Even As A Dragon’s Eye That Feels The Stress by William Wordsworth
EVEN as a dragon’s eye that feels the stress Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp, So burns yon Taper ‘mid a black recess Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless: The lake below reflects it not; the sky, Muffled in clouds, affords no company To mitigate and cheer its loneliness. […]
Emperors And Kings, How Oft Have Temples Rung by William Wordsworth
EMPERORS and Kings, how oft have temples rung With impious thanksgiving, the Almighty’s scorn! How oft above their altars have been hung Trophies that led the good and wise to mourn Triumphant wrong, battle of battle born, And sorrow that to fruitless sorrow clung! Now, from Heaven-sanctioned victory, Peace is sprung; In this firm hour […]
Crusaders by William Wordsworth
FURL we the sails, and pass with tardy oars Through these bright regions, casting many a glance Upon the dream-like issues–the romance Of many-coloured life that Fortune pours Round the Crusaders, till on distant shores Their labours end; or they return to lie, The vow performed, in cross-legged effigy, Devoutly stretched upon their chancel floors. […]
Composed While The Author Was Engaged In Writing A Tract Occasioned By The Convention Of Cintra by William Wordsworth
NOT ‘mid the world’s vain objects that enslave The free-born Soul–that World whose vaunted skill In selfish interest perverts the will, Whose factions lead astray the wise and brave– Not there; but in dark wood and rocky cave, And hollow vale which foaming torrents fill With omnipresent murmur as they rave Down their steep beds, […]
Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth
Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; […]
Composed Near Calais, On The Road Leading To Ardres, August 7, 1802 by William Wordsworth
JONES! as from Calais southward you and I Went pacing side by side, this public Way Streamed with the pomp of a too-credulous day, When faith was pledged to new-born Liberty: A homeless sound of joy was in the sky: From hour to hour the antiquated Earth Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, […]
Composed In The Valley Near Dover, On The Day Of Landing by William Wordsworth
HERE, on our native soil, we breathe once more. The cock that crows, the smoke that curls, that sound Of bells; those boys who in yon meadow-ground In white-sleeved shirts are playing; and the roar Of the waves breaking on the chalky shore;– All, all are English. Oft have I looked round With joy in […]
Composed During A Storm by William Wordsworth
One who was suffering tumult in his soul, Yet failed to seek the sure relief of prayer, Went forth-his course surrendering to the care Of the fierce wind, while mid-day lightnings prowl Insidiously, untimely thunders growl; While trees, dim-seen, in frenzied numbers, tear The lingering remnant of their yellow hair, And shivering wolves, surprised with […]
Composed By The Side Of Grasmere Lake 1806 by William Wordsworth
CLOUDS, lingering yet, extend in solid bars Through the grey west; and lo! these waters, steeled By breezeless air to smoothest polish, yield A vivid repetition of the stars; Jove, Venus, and the ruddy crest of Mars Amid his fellows beauteously revealed At happy distance from earth’s groaning field, Where ruthless mortals wage incessant wars. […]
Composed At The Same Time And On The Same Occasion by William Wordsworth
I DROPPED my pen; and listened to the Wind That sang of trees uptorn and vessels tost– A midnight harmony; and wholly lost To the general sense of men by chains confined Of business, care, or pleasure; or resigned To timely sleep. Thought I, the impassioned strain, Which, without aid of numbers, I sustain, Like […]
Composed After A Journey Across The Hambleton Hills, Yorkshire by William Wordsworth
DARK and more dark the shades of evening fell; The wished-for point was reached–but at an hour When little could be gained from that rich dower Of prospect, whereof many thousands tell. Yet did the glowing west with marvellous power Salute us; there stood Indian citadel, Temple of Greece, and minster with its tower Substantially […]
Characteristics Of A Child Three Years Old by William Wordsworth
LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild; And Innocence hath privilege in her To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes; And feats of cunning; and the pretty round Of trespasses, affected to provoke Mock-chastisement and partnership in play. And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth, Not less if unattended and alone Than when both […]
“Call Not The Royal Swede Unfortunate” by William Wordsworth
CALL not the royal Swede unfortunate, Who never did to Fortune bend the knee; Who slighted fear; rejected steadfastly Temptation; and whose kingly name and state Have “perished by his choice, and not his fate!” Hence lives He, to his inner self endeared; And hence, wherever virtue is revered, He sits a more exalted Potentate, […]
Calais, August 1802 by William Wordsworth
IS it a reed that’s shaken by the wind, Or what is it that ye go forth to see? Lords, lawyers, statesmen, squires of low degree, Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and blind, Post forward all, like creatures of one kind, With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee In France, before the […]
Calais, August 15, 1802 by William Wordsworth
FESTIVALS have I seen that were not names: This is young Buonaparte’s natal day, And his is henceforth an established sway- Consul for life. With worship France proclaims Her approbation, and with pomps and games. Heaven grant that other Cities may be gay! Calais is not: and I have bent my way To the sea-coast, […]
By The Side Of The Grave Some Years After by William Wordsworth
LONG time his pulse hath ceased to beat But benefits, his gift, we trace– Expressed in every eye we meet Round this dear Vale, his native place. To stately Hall and Cottage rude Flowed from his life what still they hold, Light pleasures, every day, renewed; And blessings half a century old. Oh true of […]