Memory
A pen--to register; a key--
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
As aptly, also, might be given
A Pencil to her hand;
That, softening objects, sometimes even
Outstrips the heart's demand;
That smooths foregone distress, the lines
Of lingering care subdues,
Long-vanished happiness refines,
And clothes in brighter hues;
Yet, like a tool of Fancy, works
Those Spectres to dilate
That startle Conscience, as she lurks
Within her lonely seat.
Oh! that our lives, which flee so fast,
In purity were such,
That not an image of the past
Should fear that pencil's touch!
Retirement then might hourly look
Upon a soothing scene,
Age steal to his allotted nook
Contented and serene;
With heart as calm as lakes that sleep,
In frosty moonlight glistening;
Or mountain rivers, where they creep
Along a channel smooth and deep,
To their own far-off murmurs listening.
William Wordsworth
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
D'autres poésies de William Wordsworth
"A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and Crags,"
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A rude and...
"A Whirl-Blast from Behind the Hill"
A Whirl-Blast from behind the hill
Rushed o'er the wood...
"Calm is all Nature as a Resting Wheel."
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are...
"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud"
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er...
"It was an April morning: fresh and clear"
It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet,...
"She Dwelt Among Untrodden Ways"
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs...
"She Was a Phantom of Delight"
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon...
"Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known"
Strange fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to...
"Surprised by Joy--Impatient as the Wind"
Surprised by joy impatient as the Wind
I turned to share...
"The World Is To Much With Us; Late and Soon"
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting...
Précédentes poésies
Written on the Day that Mr Leigh Hunt Left Prison
What though, for showing truth to flattered state,
Kind...
Written on a Summer Evening
The church bells toll a melancholy round,
Calling the...
Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer's Tale Of The Flowre And The Lefe
This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied...
Written on a Blank Space
This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied...
Written Before Re-Reading King Lear
O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed...
