Poésies de William WordsworthA narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A rude and natural causeway, interposed
Between the water and a winding slope
A Whirl-Blast from behind the hill
Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound;
Then--all at once the air was still,
I marvel how Nature could ever find space
For so many strange contrasts in one human face:
There is a change--and I am poor;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart's door,
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A rude and natural causeway, interposed
Between the water and a winding slope
Lo! where the Moon along the sky
Sails with her happy destiny;
Oft is she hid from mortal eye
Or dimly seen,
------The sky is overcast
With a continuous cloud of texture close,
Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
.A poet!--He hath put his heart to school,
Nor dares to move unpropped upon the staff
Art thou a Statist in the van
Of public conflicts trained and bred?
--First learn to love one living man;
A slumber did my spirit seal
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.
When Love was born of heavenly line,
What dire intrigues disturbed Cythera's joy!
Till Venus cried, "A mother's heart is mine;
"These Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live
A profitable life: some glance along,
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
.Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he
That every man in arms should wish to be?
"Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
Not a soul in the village this morning will stay;
Before I see another day,
Oh let my body die away!
In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
The stars, they were among my dreams;
One who was suffering tumult in his soul,
Yet failed to seek the sure relief of prayer,
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:
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
I
Between two sister moorland rills
There is a spot that seems to lie
Sacred to flowerets of the hills,
And sacred to the sky.
SURPRISED by joy--impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport--O! with whom
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
.See Plutarch.
Serene, and fitted to embrace,
Where'er he turned, a swan-like grace
Of haughtiness without pretence,
Lulled by the sound of pastoral bells,
Rude Nature's Pilgrims did we go,
From the dread summit of the Queen
. I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:
Fair Ellen Irwin, when she sate
Upon the braes of Kirtle,
Was lovely as a Grecian maid
Adorned with wreaths of myrtle;
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
MILTON! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
GREAT men have been among us; hands that penn'd
And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none:
IT is not to be thought of that the flood
Of British freedom, which, to the open sea
Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity
WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed
Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart
IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
"Why, William, on that old grey stone,
Thus for the length of half a day,
Why, William, sit you thus alone,
If thou in the dear love of some one Friend
Hast been so happy that thou know'st what thoughts
That is work of waste and ruin--
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
The peace which other seek they find;
The heaviest storms not longet last;
Heaven grants even to the guiltiest mind
We talked with open heart, and tongue
Affectionate and true,
A pair of friends, though I was young,
And Matthew seventy-two.
Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter?
What is't that ails young Harry Gill?
That evermore his teeth they chatter,
Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,
With brightest sunshine round me spread
I
A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
The Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor
With the slow motion of a summer's cloud,
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
I know an aged Man constrained to dwell
In a large house of public charity,
Where he abides, as in a Prisoner's cell,
I travelled among unknown men
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
'Tis eight o'clock,--a clear March night,
The moon is up,--the sky is blue,
The owlet, in the moonlight air,
The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among the hills the echoes play
A never never ending song,
To welcome in the May.
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!
Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought!
And giv'st to forms and images a breath
THE LARGEST OF A HEAP LYING NEAR A DESERTED QUARRY, UPON ONE OF THE ISLANDS AT RYDAL
That way look, my Infant, lo!
What a pretty baby-show!
See the kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall,
SMILE of the Moon!---for I so name
That silent greeting from above;
A gentle flash of light that came
Smile of the Moon!---for I so name
That silent greeting from above;
A gentle flash of light that came
."With sacrifice before the rising morn
Vows have I made by fruitless hope inspired;
I
In distant countries have I been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full grown,
Five years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
"And has the Sun his flaming chariot driven
Two hundred times around the ring of heaven,
I HEARD a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour;
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.
A pen--to register; a key--
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
If from the public way you turn your steps
Up the tumultuous brook of Greenhead Ghyll,
.Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
To pace the ground, if path be there or none,
A month, sweet Little-ones, is past
Since your dear Mother went away,---
And she tomorrow will return;
FROM low to high doth dissolution climb,
And sink from high to low, along a scale
Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail;
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;
.Another year!--another deadly blow!
Another mighty Empire overthrown!
And We are left, or shall be left, alone;
Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room;
And hermits are contented with their cells;
---------------------It seems a day
(I speak of one from many singled out)
One of those heavenly days that cannot die;
O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a "fiery heart":--
These notes of thine--they pierce and pierce;
I
His simple truths did Andrew glean
Beside the babbling rills;
A careful student he had been
Among the woods and hills.
WHILE from the purpling east departs
The star that led the dawn,
Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts,
For May is on the lawn.
From Recollections of Early Childhood
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
STERN Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love,
Who art a light to guide, a rod
While from the purpling east departs
The star that led the dawn,
Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts,
For May is on the lawn.
THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
I
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
And he was seated, by the highway side,
On a low structure of rude masonry
SHE was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam'd upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink;
I heard a voice; it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!"
PROLOGUE
There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon;
But through the clouds I'll never float
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;
Composed upon the Thames near Richmond
Glide gently, thus for ever glide,
O Thames! that other bards may see
I
There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years:
There's George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore,
Three rosy-cheeked school-boys, the highest not more
I
Enough of rose-bud lips, and eyes
Like harebells bathed in dew,
Of cheek that with carnation vies,
And veins of violet hue;
When Ruth was left half desolate,
Her Father took another Mate;
And Ruth, not seven years old,
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Strange fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
Surprised by joyimpatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport--Oh! with whom
One morning (raw it was and wet---
A foggy day in winter time)
A Woman on the road I met,
Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned,
Mindless of its just honours; with this key
. Departing summer hath assumed
An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of spring;
That calls from yonder leafy shade
Seven Daughter had Lord Archibald,
All children of one mother:
You could not say in one short day
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
'Tis said, that some have died for love:
And here and there a churchyard grave is found
In the cold north's unhallowed ground,
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
There is an Eminence,--of these our hills
The last that parleys with the setting sun;
We can behold it from our orchard-seat;
Three years she grew in sun and shower,
Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
'Tis said, that some have died for love:
And here and there a churchyard grave is found
In the cold north's unhallowed ground,
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Before I see another day,
Oh let my body die away!
In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
The stars, they were among my dreams;
The peace which other seek they find;
The heaviest storms not longet last;
Heaven grants even to the guiltiest mind
A Conversation
We talked with open heart, and tongue
Affectionate and true,
A pair of friends, though I was young,
.Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,
Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed;
September, 1814
And is this -Yarrow? -This the stream
Of which my fancy cherished
So faithfully, a waking dream,
