William Wordsworth Poems

  • 701.  
    Let other bards of angels sing,
    Bright suns without a spot; But thou art no such perfect thing:
  • 702.  
    If to Tradition faith be due,
    And echoes from old verse speak true, Ere the meek Saint, Columba, bore
  • 703.  
    A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
  • 704.  
    A MONTH, sweet Little-ones, is past
    Since your dear Mother went away,--- And she tomorrow will return;
  • 705.  
    'TIS spent--this burning day of June!
    Soft darkness o'er its latest gleams is stealing; The buzzing dor-hawk, round and round, is wheeling,--
  • 706.  
    AVAUNT all specious pliancy of mind
    In men of low degree, all smooth pretence! I better like a blunt indifference,
  • 707.  
    OH there is blessing in this gentle breeze,
    A visitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings
  • 708.  
    . A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,
    Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height:
  • 709.  
    'Begone, thou fond presumptuous Elf,'
    Exclaimed an angry Voice, 'Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self
  • 710.  
    EVEN as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
    Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp,
  • 711.  
    GREAT men have been among us; hands that penn'd
       And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none:    The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington,
  • 712.  
    . Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower
    Of beauty is thy earthly dower! Twice seven consenting years have shed
  • 713.  
    Our walk was far among the ancient trees:
    There was no road, nor any woodman's path; But a thick umbrage--checking the wild growth
  • 714.  
    IT is no Spirit who from heaven hath flown,
    And is descending on his embassy; Nor Traveller gone from earth the heavens to espy!
  • 715.  
    Though the torrents from their fountains
    Roar down many a craggy steep, Yet they find among the mountains
  • 716.  
    Is there a power that can sustain and cheer
    The captive chieftain, by a tyrant's doom, Forced to descend into his destined tomb--
  • 717.  
    WE had a female Passenger who came
    From Calais with us, spotless in array,-- A white-robed Negro, like a lady gay,
  • 718.  
    I DROPPED my pen; and listened to the Wind
    That sang of trees uptorn and vessels tost-- A midnight harmony; and wholly lost
  • 719.  
    Amid the smoke of cities did you pass
    The time of early youth; and there you learned, From years of quiet industry, to love
  • 720.  
    In one of those excursions (may they ne'er
    Fade from remembrance!) through the Northern tracts Of Cambria ranging with a youthful friend,
  • 721.  
    --Was it for this
    That one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'd To blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,
  • 722.  
    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,
  • 723.  
    LOOK now on that Adventurer who hath paid
    His vows to Fortune; who, in cruel slight Of virtuous hope, of liberty, and right,
  • 724.  
    TELL me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold,
    While fluttering o'er this gay Recess, Pinions that fanned the teeming mould
  • 725.  
    THE MIGHTY Minstrel breathes no longer,
    Mid mouldering ruins low he lies; And death upon the braes of Yarrow
  • 726.  
    'Tis said, that some have died for love:
    And here and there a churchyard grave is found In the cold north's unhallowed ground,
  • 727.  
    SHE was a phantom of delight
    When first she gleam'd upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent
  • 728.  
    O FRIEND! I know not which way I must look
       For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,    To think that now our life is only drest
  • 729.  
    The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink;
    I heard a voice; it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied
  • 730.  
    THE martial courage of a day is vain,
    An empty noise of death the battle's roar, If vital hope be wanting to restore,
  • 731.  
    Immured in Bothwell's Towers, at times the Brave
    (So beautiful is the Clyde) forgot to mourn The liberty they lost at Bannockburn.
  • 732.  
    With little here to do or see
    Of things that in the great world be, Daisy! again I talk to thee,
  • 733.  
    WEEP not, beloved Friends! nor let the air
  • 734.  
    TOO frail to keep the lofty vow
  • 735.  
    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;
  • 736.  
    . I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,
    As being past away.--Vain sympathies! For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,
  • 737.  
    The sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest,
    And the wild storm hath somewhere found a nest; Air slumbers--wave with wave no longer strives,
  • 738.  
    The little hedgerow birds,
    That peck along the roads, regard him not. He travels on, and in his face, his step,
  • 739.  
    The little hedgerow birds,
    That peck along the road, regard him not. He travels on, and in his face, his step,
  • 740.  
    . I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
    Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee: I saw thee every day; and all the while
  • 741.  
    Up with me! up with me into the clouds!
    For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me, up with me into the clouds!
  • 742.  
    YES! hope may with my strong desire keep pace,
    And I be undeluded, unbetrayed; For if of our affections none finds grace
  • 743.  
    THUS they, with freaks of proud delight,
    Beguile the remnant of the night; And many a snatch of jovial song
  • 744.  
    Strange fits of passion have I known:
    And I will dare to tell, But in the lover's ear alone,
  • 745.  
    IF Wytheburn's modest House of prayer,
    As lowly as the lowliest dwelling, Had, with its belfry's humble stock,
  • 746.  
    Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
    Or surely you'll grow double: Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
  • 747.  
    There's George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore,
    Three rosy-cheeked school-boys, the highest not more Than the height of a counsellor's bag;
  • 748.  
    INMATE of a mountain-dwelling,
    Thou hast clomb aloft, and gazed From the watch-towers of Helvellyn;
  • 749.  
    Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
    The kine are couched upon the dewy grass; The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
  • 750.  
    She had a tall man's height or more;
    Her face from summer's noontide heat No bonnet shaded, but she wore
Total 1015 poems written by William Wordsworth

Poem of the day

A. E. Housman Poem
When Smoke Stood Up From Ludlow
 by A. E. Housman

When smoke stood up from Ludlow,
And mist blew off from Teme,
And blithe afield to ploughing
Against the morning beam
I strode beside my team,

The blackbird in the coppice
Looked out to see me stride,

Read complete poem

Popular Poets