William Wordsworth

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.

The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.

The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.

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.

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the read more

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.

And when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The Thing became a read more

And when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew
Soul-animating strains--alas! too few.