William Wordsworth

Brook! whose society the poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious painter read more

Brook! whose society the poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious painter doth pursue
Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks,
And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks.

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long read more

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.

Of vast circumference and gloom profound,
This solitary Tree! A living thing
Produced too slowly ever to read more

Of vast circumference and gloom profound,
This solitary Tree! A living thing
Produced too slowly ever to decay;
Of form and aspect too magnificent
To be destroyed.

He could afford to suffer
With those whom he saw suffer.

He could afford to suffer
With those whom he saw suffer.

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.