Search Results for: poetry at work

< Return to all Wordsworth poems Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been Among all lovely things my Love had been; Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew About her home; but she had never seen A Glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.   While riding near her home one stormy night […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems She Was a Phantom of Delight She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleam’d upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment’s ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight’s, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems To the Daisy In youth from rock to rock I went From hill to hill, in discontent Of pleasure high and turbulent, Most pleas’d when most uneasy; But now my own delights I make, My thirst at every rill can slake, And gladly Nature’s love partake Of thee, sweet […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Tables Turned Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books; Or surely you’ll grow double: Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks; Why all this toil and trouble? The sun, above the mountain’s head, A freshening lustre mellow Through all the long green fields has spread, His […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems To My Sister It is the first mild day of March: Each minute sweeter than before The redbreast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air, Which seems a sense of joy to yield To the bare trees, and mountains […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems Lines Written in Early Spring I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved […]

  < Return to all Wordsworth poems Goody Blake and Harry Gill Oh! what’s the matter? what’s the matter? What is’t that ails young Harry Gill? That evermore his teeth they chatter, Chatter, chatter, chatter still! Of waistcoats Harry has no lack, Good duffle grey, and flannel fine; He has a blanket on his back, […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems We are Seven —A simple Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems A Night Piece —The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close, Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon, Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls, Chequering the ground—from rock, plant, tree, […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Reverie of Poor Susan At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the Bird. ‘Tis a note […]

< Return to all Wordsworth poems Lines Written While Sailing in a Boat at Evening How richly glows the water’s breast Before us, tinged with evening hues, While, facing thus the crimson west, The boat her silent course pursues! And see how dark the backward stream! A little moment past so smiling! And still, perhaps, […]

William Wordsworth Poems A Night Thought A Night Piece A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal A Wren’s Nest Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been Goody Blake and Harry Gill Intimations of Immortality I Travelled Among Unknown Men I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud It Is A Beauteous Evening Lines Written in Early Spring […]

< Return to All WB Yeats The Ballad of the Foxhunter “Now lay me in a cushioned chair “And carry me, you four, “With cushions here and cushions there, “To see the world once more. “And some one from the stables bring “My Dermot dear and brown, “And lead him gently in a ring, “And […]