William Wordsworth

My eyes are dim with childish tears,
My heart is idly stirred,
For the same sound is read more

My eyes are dim with childish tears,
My heart is idly stirred,
For the same sound is in my ears
Which in those days I heard.

Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.

Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.

Art thou the bird whom Man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little read more

Art thou the bird whom Man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little English Robin;
The bird that comes about our doors
When autumn winds are sobbing?

On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and read more

On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love.

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay,
And at my easement sing,
Though it should prove a farewell lay
read more

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay,
And at my easement sing,
Though it should prove a farewell lay
And this our parting spring.
. . . .
Then, little Bird, this boon confer,
Come, and my requiem sing,
Nor fail to be the harbinger
Of everlasting spring.