Maxioms by William Wordsworth
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising:
There are forty feeding like one!
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising:
There are forty feeding like one!
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for read more
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years.
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
read more
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.
