William Wordsworth Poems

  • 651.  
    I wandered lonely as a cloud
    That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd,
  • 652.  
    Advance, come forth from thy Tyrolean ground,
    Dear Liberty! stern Nymph of soul untamed; Sweet Nymph, O rightly of the mountains named!
  • 653.  
    When I have borne in memory what has tamed
    Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart When men change swords for ledgers, and desert
  • 654.  
    Hast thou then survived
    Mild Offspring of infirm humanity, Meek Infant! among all forlornest things
  • 655.  
    "And has the Sun his flaming chariot driven
    Two hundred times around the ring of heaven, Since Science first, with all her sacred train,
  • 656.  
    Dear native regions, I foretell,
    From what I feel at this farewell, That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend,
  • 657.  
    What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay,
    These humble nuptials to proclaim or grace? Angels of love, look down upon the place;
  • 658.  
    It is not to be thought of that the flood
    Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity
  • 659.  
    How richly glows the water's breast
    Before us, tinged with evening hues, While, facing thus the crimson west,
  • 660.  
    LIE here, without a record of thy worth,
    Beneath a covering of the common earth! It is not from unwillingness to praise,
  • 661.  
    FROM the dark chambers of dejection freed,
    Spurning the unprofitable yoke of care, Rise, GILLIES, rise; the gales of youth shall bear
  • 662.  
    When Ruth was left half desolate,
    Her Father took another Mate; And Ruth, not seven years old,
  • 663.  
    WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed
    Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart When men change swords for ledgers, and desert
  • 664.  
    ALAS! what boots the long laborious quest
    Of moral prudence, sought through good and ill; Or pains abstruse-to elevate the will,
  • 665.  
    If thou in the dear love of some one Friend
    Hast been so happy that thou know'st what thoughts Will sometimes in the happiness of love
  • 666.  
    IN youth from rock to rock I went
    From hill to hill in discontent Of pleasure high and turbulent,
  • 667.  
    Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!
    Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought! And giv'st to forms and images a breath
  • 668.  
    HOW sweet it is, when mother Fancy rocks
    The wayward brain, to saunter through a wood! An old place, full of many a lovely brood,
  • 669.  
    "Her divine skill taught me this,
    That from every thing I saw I could some instruction draw,
  • 670.  
    WITHIN our happy castle there dwelt One
    Whom without blame I may not overlook; For never sun on living creature shone
  • 671.  
    'TIS not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined,
    The squeamish in taste, and the narrow of mind, And the small critic wielding his delicate pen,
  • 672.  
    We talked with open heart, and tongue
    Affectionate and true, A pair of friends, though I was young,
  • 673.  
    Art thou a Statist in the van
    Of public conflicts trained and bred? --First learn to love one living man;
  • 674.  
    Let us quit the leafy arbor,
    And the torrent murmuring by; For the sun is in his harbor,
  • 675.  
    METHOUGHT I saw the footsteps of a throne
    Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud-- Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
  • 676.  
    BRIGHT Flower! whose home is everywhere,
    Bold in maternal Nature's care, And all the long year through the heir
  • 677.  
    The sun has long been set,
    The stars are out by twos and threes, The little birds are piping yet
  • 678.  
    That is work of waste and ruin--
    Do as Charles and I are doing! Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
  • 679.  
    WHO weeps for strangers? Many wept
    For George and Sarah Green; Wept for that pair's unhappy fate,
  • 680.  
    EVEN as a river,--partly (it might seem)
    Yielding to old remembrances, and swayed In part by fear to shape a way direct,
  • 681.  
    Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
    The kine are couched upon the dewy grass; The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
  • 682.  
    THEY seek, are sought; to daily battle led,
    Shrink not, though far outnumbered by their Foes, For they have learnt to open and to close
  • 683.  
    IT is not to be thought of that the Flood
    Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity
  • 684.  
    Fair Ellen Irwin, when she sate
    Upon the braes of Kirtle, Was lovely as a Grecian maid
  • 685.  
    PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies,
    Let them live upon their praises; Long as there's a sun that sets,
  • 686.  
    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
  • 687.  
    THE Land we from our fathers had in trust,
    And to our children will transmit, or die: This is our maxim, this our piety;
  • 688.  
    THIS Height a ministering Angel might select:
    For from the summit of BLACK COMB (dread name Derived from clouds and storms!) the amplest range
  • 689.  
    WHO fancied what a pretty sight
    This Rock would be if edged around With living snow-drops? circlet bright!
  • 690.  
    There is an Eminence,--of these our hills
    The last that parleys with the setting sun; We can behold it from our orchard-seat;
  • 691.  
    WHILE not a leaf seems faded; while the fields,
    With ripening harvest prodigally fair, In brightest sunshine bask; this nipping air,
  • 692.  
    The stars are mansions built by Nature's hand,
    And, haply, there the spirits of the blest Dwell, clothed in radiance, their immortal vest;
  • 693.  
    WITH ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,
    Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed; Some lying fast at anchor in the road,
  • 694.  
    SIX changeful years have vanished since I first
    Poured out (saluted by that quickening breeze Which met me issuing from the City's walls)
  • 695.  
    THOUGH narrow be that old Man's cares, and near,
    The poor old Man is greater than he seems: For he hath waking empire, wide as dreams;
  • 696.  
    'REST, rest, perturbed Earth!
  • 697.  
    ONCE to the verge of yon steep barrier came
  • 698.  
    "What, you are stepping westward?"--"Yea."
    ---'T would be a wildish destiny,
  • 699.  
    IN due observance of an ancient rite,
    The rude Biscayans, when their children lie Dead in the sinless time of infancy,
  • 700.  
    THE fields which with covetous spirit we sold,
Total 1015 poems written by William Wordsworth

Poem of the day

Charles Hamilton Sorley Poem
Barbury Camp
 by Charles Hamilton Sorley

We burrowed night and day with tools of lead,
Heaped the bank up and cast it in a ring
And hurled the earth above. And Caesar said,
“Why, it is excellent. I like the thing.”
We, who are dead,
Made it, and wrought, and Caesar liked the thing.

And here we strove, and here we felt each vein

Read complete poem

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