Maxioms by William Wordsworth
Sad fancies do we then affect,
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
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Sad fancies do we then affect,
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
Of too familiar happiness.
Lady of the Mere,
Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
Lady of the Mere,
Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
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.
Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
