God is our refuge and our strength
When trouble's hour is near:
A very present help is he,
Therefore we will not fear:
...
This day without its record may not pass,
In which I first have seen the lowly roof
That shelters Wordsworth's age. A love intense,
...
Dost thou complain that, in thy weary toil,
Day after day takes from thee something dear;
So that less welcome through the circling year
...
In dreamy days of boyhood and of youth
Sweet Poesy whispered often in mine ear;
And I could then with voice distinct and clear
...
One, and another--pass they, and are gone,
Our early friends. Like minute--bells of heaven,
Across our path in fitful wailings driven,
...
If thou wouldst find what holiest men have sought,
Communion with the power of Poesy,
Empty thy mind of all unquiet thought,
...
Weep ye and howl, for that ye did refuse
God's feast of bounties when most largely spread,--
Sunrise and set, and clustering overhead
...
But deck the board;--for hither comes a band
Of pure young spirits, fresh arrayed in white,
Glistering against the newly--risen light;
...
Out, palsied soul, that dost but tremble ever
In sight of the bright sunshine;--mine be joy,
And the full heart, and eye that faileth never
...
Close is the nook; the valley--pathway steep
Above the river climbs; and down the bank,
With sweet wild roses and thick hazels rank,
...