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William Wordsworth
Quote #111
Something between a hindrance and a help.
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My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard. Thus fares it …
Drink, pretty creature, drink!
A youth to whom was given So much of earth-so much of heaven, And such impetuous blood.
May no rude hand deface it, And its forlorn Hic jacet!
And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind.
Five years have passed; five summers, with the length Of five long winters! and again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountain-spri…
The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door!
These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye: But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'm…
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