Poems by William Wordsworth

Poems by William Wordsworth

I Grieved for Buonaparté, by William Wordsworth

I grieved for Buonaparté, with a vain
And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood
Of tha...

In a Carriage, Upon the Banks of the Rhine, by William Wordsworth

Amid this dance of objects sadness steals
O'er the defrauded heart--while sweeping by,
As in a...

Incident Characteristic of a Favourite Dog, by William Wordsworth

On his morning rounds the Master
Goes to learn how all things fare;
Searches pasture after pas...

In the Cathedral at Cologne, by William Wordsworth

O for the help of Angels to complete
This Temple--Angels governed by a plan
How gloriously purs...

In the Pass of Killicranky, by William Wordsworth

An invasion being expected, October 1803 Six thousand veterans practised in war's game,
Tried...

It Is a Beauteous Evening, Calm and Free, by William Wordsworth

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with ado...

It is No Spirit who from Heaven hath Flown, by William Wordsworth

It is no Spirit who from heaven hath flown,
And is descending on his embassy;
Nor Traveller g...

It is Not to be Thought of that the Flood, by William Wordsworth

It is not to be thought of that the Flood
Of British freedom, which, to the open sea
Of the w...

I Travelled Among Unknown Men, by William Wordsworth

I travelled among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! Did I know till then
...

It Was an April Morning: Fresh and Clear, by William Wordsworth

It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,
Ran with a ...

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw ...

The King of Sweden, by William Wordsworth

The Voice of song from distant lands shall call
To that great King; shall hail the crownè...

The Kitten and Falling Leaves, by William Wordsworth

That way look, my Infant, lo!
What a pretty baby-show!
See the Kitten on the wall,
Sporting...

The Last of the Flock, by William Wordsworth

I In distant countries have I been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full...

Lines Left Upon a Seat in a Yew-Tree..., by William Wordsworth

Nay, Traveller! Rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No...