Maxioms by William Wordsworth
We take no note of time
But from its loss.
We take no note of time
But from its loss.
A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays,
And confident to-morrows.
A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays,
And confident to-morrows.
Life's cares are comforts; such by heaven design'd
He that has none, must make them or be wretched.
Life's cares are comforts; such by heaven design'd
He that has none, must make them or be wretched.
Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
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Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The Ploughboy is whooping--anon--anon!
There's joy in the mountains:
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone.
Now when the primrose makes a splendid show,
And lilies face the March-winds in full blow,
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Now when the primrose makes a splendid show,
And lilies face the March-winds in full blow,
And humbler growths as moved with one desire
Put on, to welcome spring, their best attire,
Poor Robin is yet flowerless; but how gay
With his red stalks upon this sunny day!