Wordsworth by William Wordsworth

thunder – everlastingly.
    Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
    If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
    Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
    Thou liest in Abraham’s bosom all the year;
    And worshipp’st at the Temple’s inner shrine,
    God being with thee when we know it not.
COMPOSED UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE, SEPTEMBER 3, 1802
    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;
    All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
    Never did sun more beautifully steep
    In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
    Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
    The river glideth at his own sweet will:
    Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
    And all that mighty heart is lying still!
LONDON, 1802
    Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
    England hath need of thee: she is a fen
    Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
    Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
    Have forfeited their ancient English dower
    Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
    Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
    And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
    Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart:
    Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
    Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
    So didst thou travel on life’s common way,
    In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
    The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
‘NUNS FRET NOT AT THEIR CONVENT’S NARROW ROOM’
    Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room;
    And hermits are contented with their cells;
    And students with their pensive citadels;
    Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom,
    Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom,
    High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells,
    Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells:
    In truth the prison, unto which we doom
    Ourselves, no prison is: and hence for me,
    In sundry moods, ’twas pastime to be bound
    Within the Sonnet’s scanty plot of ground;
    Pleased if some Souls (for such there needs must be)
    Who have felt the weight of too much liberty,
    Should find brief solace there, as I have found.
‘WITH SHIPS THE SEA WAS SPRINKLED FAR AND NIGH’
    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,
    Some veering up and down, one knew not why.
    A goodly Vessel did I then espy
    Come like a Giant from a haven broad;
    And lustily along the Bay she strode,
    Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.
    This Ship was nought to me, nor I to her,
    Yet I pursued her with a Lover’s look;
    This Ship to all the rest did I prefer:
    When will she turn, and whither? She will brook
    No tarrying; where she comes the winds must stir:
    On went She, and due north her journey took.
‘DEAR NATIVE BROOKS YOUR WAYS HAVE I PURSUED’
    Dear Native Brooks your ways have I pursued
    How fondly! whether you delight in screen
    Of shady woods to rest yourselves unseen,
    Or from your lofty dwellings scarcely viewed
    But by the mountain eagle, your bold brood
    Pure as the morning, angry, boisterous, keen,
    Green as sea water, foaming white and green,
    Comes roaring like a joyous multitude.
    Nor have I been your follower in vain;
    For not to speak of life and its first joys
    Bound to your goings by a tender chain
    Of flowers and delicate dreams that entertain
    Loose minds when Men are growing into Boys,
    My manly heart has owed to your rough noise
    Triumph and thoughts no bondage could restrain.
‘GREAT MEN HAVE BEEN AMONG US’
    Great Men have been among us; hands that penned
    And tongues that uttered wisdom, better none:
    The later Sydney, 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 a nation