William Wordsworth

Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
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Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none read more

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love.

I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried read more

I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed--and cooed:
And somewhat pensively he wooed:
He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song,--the song for me!

Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove.

Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove.

Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
Through words and things, a dim and perilous way.

Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
Through words and things, a dim and perilous way.