Poems by William Wordsworth

Poems by William Wordsworth

To a Sexton, by William Wordsworth

Let thy wheel-barrow alone
Wherefore, Sexton, piling still
In thy bone-house bone on bone?
'...

To a Sky-Lark, by William Wordsworth

Up with me! Up with me into the clouds!
For thy song, Lark, is strong;
Up with me, up with ...

To H. C., by William Wordsworth

O thou! Whose fancies from afar are brought;
Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel,
And f...

To Joanna, by William Wordsworth

Amid the smoke of cities did you pass
The time of early youth; and there you learned,
From yea...

To M. H., by William Wordsworth

Our walk was far among the ancient trees:
There was no road, nor any woodman's path;
But a t...

To My Sister, by William Wordsworth

It is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before
The redbreast sings from th...

To the Cuckoo, by William Wordsworth

O blithe New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! Shall I call thee Bird,
...

Who Fancied What a Pretty Sight, by William Wordsworth

Who fancied what a pretty sight
This Rock would be if edged around
With living snow-drops? Circ...

The Waterfall and the Eglantine, by William Wordsworth

I "Begone, thou fond presumptuous Elf, "
Exclaimed an angry Voice,
"Nor dare to thrust thy f...

We Are Seven, by William Wordsworth

A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What shoul...

When I Have Borne in Memory What has Tamed, by William Wordsworth

When I have borne in memory what has tamed
Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart
When m...

When, to the Attractions of the Busy World, by William Wordsworth

When, to the attractions of the busy world,
Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen
A habi...

A Whirl-blast from Behind the Hill, by William Wordsworth

A whirl-blast from behind the hill
Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound;
Thenall at once ...

Written in Very Early Youth, by William Wordsworth

Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alo...

To the Daisy, by William Wordsworth

"Her divine skill taught me this,
That from every thing I saw
I could some instruction draw,
...