William Wordsworth

And hear the mighty stream of tendency
Uttering, for elevation of our thought,
A clear sonorous voice, read more

And hear the mighty stream of tendency
Uttering, for elevation of our thought,
A clear sonorous voice, inaudible
To the vast multitude.

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.

The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witching of the read more

The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witching of the soft blue sky!

Among the dwellings framed by birds
In field or forest with nice care,
Is none that with read more

Among the dwellings framed by birds
In field or forest with nice care,
Is none that with the little wren's
In snugness may compare.

We take no note of time
But from its loss.

We take no note of time
But from its loss.