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.

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon.

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon.

And she hath smiles to earth unknown--
Smiles that with motion of their own
Do spread, and read more

And she hath smiles to earth unknown--
Smiles that with motion of their own
Do spread, and sink, and rise.

A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.

A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.

Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet read more

Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart.