Search Results for: wordsworth

< Return to all Wordsworth poems A Night Thought 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 […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems My Heart Leaps Up My heart leaps up when I behold     A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began;  So is it now I am a man;  So be it when I shall grow old,     Or let me die! The Child is father […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems Intimations of Immortality The earth, and every common sight, To me did seemApparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore;— Turn wheresoe’er I may,By night or day. The things which I have seen I now […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Cottager to Her Infant The days are cold, the nights are long, The north-wind sings a doleful song; Then hush again upon my breast; All merry things are now at rest, Save thee, my pretty Love! The kitten sleeps upon the hearth, The crickets long have ceased their […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The French Revolution Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy! For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood Upon our side, we who were strong in love! Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven!—Oh! times, In which the meagre, stale, […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Lesser Celandine There is a Flower, the lesser Celandine, That shrinks, like many more, from cold and rain; And, the first moment that the sun may shine, Bright as the sun himself, ’tis out again! When hailstones have been falling, swarm on swarm, Or blasts the green field […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Kitten and Falling Leaves That way look, my Infant, lo! What a pretty baby-show! See the Kitten on the wall, Sporting with the leaves that fall, Withered leaves—one—two—and three— From the lofty elder-tree! Through the calm and frosty air Of this morning bright and fair, Eddying round and […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems To a Skylark Up with me! up with me into the clouds! For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me, up with me into the clouds! Singing, singing, With all the heav’ns about thee ringing, Lift me, guide me, till I find That spot which seems so to […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been 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 […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems She Was a Phantom of Delight She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleam’d upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment’s ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight’s, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems To the Daisy In youth from rock to rock I went From hill to hill, in discontent Of pleasure high and turbulent, Most pleas’d when most uneasy; But now my own delights I make, My thirst at every rill can slake, And gladly Nature’s love partake Of thee, sweet […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Tables Turned Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books; Or surely you’ll grow double: Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks; Why all this toil and trouble? The sun, above the mountain’s head, A freshening lustre mellow Through all the long green fields has spread, His […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems To My Sister It is the first mild day of March: Each minute sweeter than before The redbreast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air, Which seems a sense of joy to yield To the bare trees, and mountains […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems Lines Written in Early Spring I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved […]

  < Return to all Wordsworth poems Goody Blake and Harry Gill Oh! what’s the matter? what’s the matter? What is’t that ails young Harry Gill? That evermore his teeth they chatter, Chatter, chatter, chatter still! Of waistcoats Harry has no lack, Good duffle grey, and flannel fine; He has a blanket on his back, […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems We are Seven —A simple Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems A Night Piece —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, […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Reverie of Poor Susan At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the Bird. ‘Tis a note […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems Lines Written While Sailing in a Boat at Evening How richly glows the water’s breast Before us, tinged with evening hues, While, facing thus the crimson west, The boat her silent course pursues! And see how dark the backward stream! A little moment past so smiling! And still, perhaps, […]