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English poet
(1770 - 1850)
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Behold, within the leafy shade,
  Those bright blue eggs together laid!
    On me the chance-discovered sight
      Gleamed like a vision of delight.
      - The Sparrow's Nest [Sparrows]

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
  And humble cares, and delicate fears;
    A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;
      And love, and thought, and joy.
      - The Sparrow's Nest [Gifts]

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
  He, too, is no mean preacher:
    Come forth into the light of things,
      Let Nature be your teacher.
      - The Tables Turned [Thrushes]

Books, we know,
  Are a substantial world, both pure and good:
    Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,
      Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
      - The Tables Turned [Books]

One impulse from a vernal wood
  May teach you more of a man,
    Of moral evil and of good,
      Than all the sages can.
      - The Tables Turned [Trees]

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 Tables Turned [Books]

There is a Thorn,--it looks so old,
  In truth, you'd find it hard to say
    How it could ever have been young,
      It looks so old and gray.
        Not higher than a two years child
          It stands erect, this aged Thorn;
            No leaves it has, no prickly points;
              It is a mass of knotted joints,
                A wretched thing forlorn.
                  It stands erect, and like a stone
                    With lichens is it overgrown.
      - The Thorn [Thorn]

Nature's old felicities.
      - The Trosachs [Nature]

That every gift of noble origin
  Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.
      - These Times Strike Monied Worldlings

Worldings revelling in the fields
  Of strenuous idleness.
      - This Lawn, a Carpet all alive [Idleness]

Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
  One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
      - Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven
  This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven;
    The rueful conflict, the heart riven
      With vain endeavour,
        And memory of earth's bitter leaven
          Effaced forever.
      - Thoughts Suggested on the Banks of the Nith

And beauty born of murmuring sound.
      - Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower

The stars of midnight shall be dear
  To her; and she shall lean her ear
    In many a secret place
      Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
        And beauty born of murmuring sound
          Shall pass into her face.
      - Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower

But hearing oftentimes
  The still, sad music of humanity.
      - Tintern Abbey [Humanity]

As pensive evening deepens into night.
      - TO ----- [Twilight]

Much converse do I find in thee,
  Historian of my infancy!
    Float near me; do not yet depart!
      Dead times revive in thee:
        Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
          A solemn image to my heart.
      - To a Butterfly [Butterflies]

Sweet childish days, that were as long
  As twenty days are now.
      - To a Butterfly [Childhood]

Small service is true service while it lasts:
  Of humblest friends, bright Creature! scorn not one;
    The Daisy, by the shadow that it casts,
      Protects the lingering dew drop from the Sun.
      - To a Child: Written in Her Album

A face with gladness overspread!
  Soft smiles, by human kindness bred!
      - To a Highland Girl [Face]

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay,
  And at my easement sing,
    Though it should prove a farewell lay
      And this our parting spring.
        . . . .
          Then, little Bird, this boon confer,
            Come, and my requiem sing,
              Nor fail to be the harbinger
                Of everlasting spring.
      - To a Redbreast--In Sickness [Robins]

Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they
  But hardier far, once more I see thee bend
    Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend,
      Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day,
        Storms, sallying from the mountain tops, waylay
          The rising sun, and on the plains descend;
            Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend
              Whose zeal outruns his promise!
      - To a Snow-Drop [Snowdrops]

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
  Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring,
    And pensive monitor of fleeting years!
      - To a Snow-Drop [Snowdrops]

But an old age serene and bright,
  And lovely as a Lapland night,
    Shall lead thee to thy grave.
      - To a Young Lady [Age]

Shalt show us how divine a thing
  A Woman may be made.
      - To a Young Lady--Dear Child of Nature

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