Maxioms by 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.
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?
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.
