William Wordsworth

The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door.

The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door.

We take no note of time
But from its loss.

We take no note of time
But from its loss.

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven
This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven;
The rueful conflict, the read more

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven
This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven;
The rueful conflict, the heart riven
With vain endeavour,
And memory of earth's bitter leaven
Effaced forever.

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.

Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were read more

Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams.