William Wordsworth Poems

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.
...

The peace which other seek they find;
The heaviest storms not longet last;
Heaven grants even to the guiltiest mind
An amnesty for what is past;
...

ONCE did she hold the gorgeous East in fee;
   And was the safeguard of the West: the worth
   Of Venice did not fall below her birth,
Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty.
...

. With an incident in which he was concerned
In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall,
An old Man dwells, a little man,--
...

ALAS! what boots the long laborious quest
Of moral prudence, sought through good and ill;
Or pains abstruse-to elevate the will,
...

A Conversation

We talked with open heart, and tongue
Affectionate and true,
...

HIGH deeds, O Germans, are to come from you!
Thus in your books the record shall be found,
'A watchword was pronounced, a potent sound--
...

I

'There is a Thorn--it looks so old,
In truth, you'd find it hard to say
...

Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
...

Send this man to the mine, this to the battle,
Famish an aged beggar at your gates,
And let him die by inches- but for worlds
...