Poems by William Wordsworth

Once in a lonely hamlet I sojourned
In which a Lady driven from France did dwell;
The big and ...

For gentlest uses, oft-times Nature takes
The work of Fancy from her willing hands;
And such ...

England! The time is come when thou should'st wean
Thy heart from its emasculating food;
The t...

"Why, William, on that old grey stone,
Thus for the length of half a day,
Why, William, s...

Far from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral...

I A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
S...

Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow white blossoms on my head,
With brightest...

Great men have been among us; hands that penned
And tongues that uttered wisdombetter none:
Th...

Oh! What's the matter? What's the matter?
What is't that ails young Harry Gill?
That evermore h...

In this still place, remote from men,
Sleeps Ossian, in the Narrow Glen;
In this still plac...

As it Appeared to Enthusiasts at its Commencement Oh! Pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mi...

We talked with open heart, and tongue
Affectionate and true,
A pair of friends, though I was...

From the fierce aspect of this River throwing
His giant body o'er the steep rock's brink,
Back...

'Tis not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined,
The squeamish in taste, and the narrow of mi...

The peace which others seek they find;
The heaviest storms not longest last;
Heaven grants ev...