Poems by William Wordsworth

Poems by William Wordsworth

'Tis Said, That Some Have Died for Love, by William Wordsworth

'Tis said, that some have died for love:
And here and there a church-yard grave is found
In t...

To a Butterfly, by William Wordsworth

Stay near medo not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find in t...

To a Butterfly II, by William Wordsworth

I've watch'd you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butt...

To a Highland Girl, by William Wordsworth

Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
Twice seven consenting year...

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,
...

To the Daisy, by William Wordsworth

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

Her Eyes Are Wild, by William Wordsworth

I Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,
The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
Her eyebrows...

The Idiot Boy, by William Wordsworth

'Tis eight o'clock, a clear March night,
The moon is up, the sky is blue,
The owlet, in the ...

The Idle Shepherd-Boys; or, Dungeon-Ghyll Force, by William Wordsworth

The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among the hills the echoes play
A never never ending song...