William Wordsworth

Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
The confidence of reason give;
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Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
The confidence of reason give;
And in the light of truth thy
Bondman let me live!

Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing
Under the sky's gray arch;
Smiling I read more

Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing
Under the sky's gray arch;
Smiling I watch the shaken elm boughs, knowing
It is the wind of March.

This flower that first appeared as summer's guest
Preserves her beauty 'mid autumnal leaves
And to her read more

This flower that first appeared as summer's guest
Preserves her beauty 'mid autumnal leaves
And to her mournful habits fondly cleaves.

The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift,
That no philosophy can lift.

The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift,
That no philosophy can lift.

The intellectual power, through words and things,
Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!

The intellectual power, through words and things,
Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!