William Wordsworth

Hail to thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, linnet! in thy read more

Hail to thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, linnet! in thy green array,
Presiding spirit here to-day,
Dost lead the revels of the May;
And this is thy dominion.

There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
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There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon.

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon.

Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows
That for oblivion that their daily birth
From all the read more

Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows
That for oblivion that their daily birth
From all the fuming vanities of earth.

But shapes that come not at an earthly call,
Will not depart when mortal voices bid.

But shapes that come not at an earthly call,
Will not depart when mortal voices bid.