The World Is Too Much With Us William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are … Continue reading The World Is Too Much With Us William Wordsworth

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Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled 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 … Continue reading Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Elegiac Stanzas by William Wordsworth

Elegiac Stanzas Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm, Painted by Sir George Beaumont BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile! Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee: I saw thee every day; and all the while Thy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea. So pure … Continue reading Elegiac Stanzas by William Wordsworth

The Sailor’s Mother * William Wordsworth Poem

ONE morning (raw it was and wet-- A foggy day in winter time) A Woman on the road I met, Not old, though something past her prime: Majestic in her person, tall and straight; And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait. The ancient spirit is not dead; Old times, thought I, are … Continue reading The Sailor’s Mother * William Wordsworth Poem

November, 1806 *WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Another year!—another deadly blow! Another mighty Empire overthrown! And We are left, or shall be left, alone; The last that dare to struggle with the Foe. 'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know That in ourselves our safety must be sought; That by our own right hands it must be wrought; That we … Continue reading November, 1806 *WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Foresight by William Wordsworth – Poetry

THAT is work of waste and ruin-- Do as Charles and I are doing! Strawberry-blossoms, one and all, We must spare them--here are many: Look at it--the flower is small, Small and low, though fair as any: Do not touch it! summers two I am older, Anne, than you. Pull the primrose, sister Anne! Pull … Continue reading Foresight by William Wordsworth – Poetry