William Wordsworth

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.

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.

Bright flowers, whose home is everywhere
Bold in maternal nature's care
And all the long year through read more

Bright flowers, whose home is everywhere
Bold in maternal nature's care
And all the long year through the heir
Of joy and sorrow,
Methinks that there abides in thee
Some concord with humanity,
Given to no other flower I see
The forest through.

The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising:
There are forty feeding like one!

The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising:
There are forty feeding like one!

And when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The Thing became a read more

And when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew
Soul-animating strains--alas! too few.