William Wordsworth

Why should not grave Philosophy be styled.
Herself, a dreamer of a kindred stock,
A dreamer, yet read more

Why should not grave Philosophy be styled.
Herself, a dreamer of a kindred stock,
A dreamer, yet more spiritless and dull?

The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.

The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.

The feather, whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from read more

The feather, whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from an Angel's wing.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for read more

At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years.