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 bare,
And grass in the green field.
My sister! ('tis a wish of mine)
Now that our morning meal is done,
Make haste, your morning task resign;
Come forth and feel the sun.
Edward will come with you;--and, pray,
Put on with speed your woodland dress;
And bring no book: for this one day
We'll give to idleness.
No joyless forms shall regulate
Our living calendar:
We from to-day, my Friend, will date
The opening of the year.
Love, now a universal birth,
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
--It is the hour of feeling.
One moment now may give us more
Than years of toiling reason:
Our minds shall drink at every pore
The spirit of the season.
Some silent laws our hearts will make,
Which they shall long obey:
We for the year to come may take
Our temper from to-day.
And from the blessed power that rolls
About, below, above,
We'll frame the measure of our souls:
They shall be tuned to love.
Then come, my Sister! come, I pray,
With speed put on your woodland dress;
And bring no book: for this one day
We'll give to idleness.
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...
