The Childless Father, by William Wordsworth
"Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
Not a soul in the village this morning will stay;
...
"Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
Not a soul in the village this morning will stay;
...
Thou sacred Pile! Whose turrets rise
From yon steep Mountain's loftiest stage,
Guarded by lone...
I Before I see another day,
Oh let my body die away!
In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
...
Dark and more dark the shades of evening fell;
The wished-for point was reachedbut at an hour
...
Fair Star of evening, Splendour of the west,
Star of my Country!on the horizon's brink
Thou h...
Doomed as we are our native dust
To wet with many a bitter shower,
It ill befits us to disdain...
Here, on our native soil, we breathe once more.
The cock that crows, the smoke that curls, t...
Jones! As from Calais southward you and I
Went pacing side by side, this public Way
Streamed w...
Earth has not any thing to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight ...
The days are cold, the nights are long,
The north-wind sings a doleful song;
Then hush again...
I Between two sister moorland rills
There is a spot that seems to lie
Sacred to flowerets of ...
The gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains
Might sometimes covet dissoluble chains;
Even fo...
Were there, below, a spot of holy ground
Where from distress a refuge might be found,
And so...