The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 540 pages of information about The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1.

    Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields [157]
  With rocks and gloomy woods [158] her fertile fields:  570
  Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,
  And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend;—­[Ee]
  A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
  Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;
  Here all the seasons revel hand in hand:  575
  ’Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned [159]
  [160] They sport beneath that mountain’s matchless height [161]
  That holds no commerce with the summer night. [Ee]
  From age to age, throughout [162] his lonely bounds
  The crash of ruin fitfully resounds; 580
  Appalling [163] havoc! but serene his brow,
  Where daylight lingers on [164] perpetual snow;
  Glitter the stars, and all is black below. [Ee]

    What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,
  While roars the sullen Arve in anger by, [165] 585
  That not for thy reward, unrivall’d [166] Vale! [Ff]
  Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;
  That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine
  And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,
  To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine. [167] 590

    Hail Freedom! whether it was mine to stray,
  With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, [168]
  On [169] the bleak sides of Cumbria’s heath-clad moors,
  Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland’s shores;
  To scent the sweets of Piedmont’s breathing rose, 595
  And orange gale that o’er Lugano blows;
  Still have I found, where Tyranny prevails,
  That virtue languishes and pleasure fails, [170]
  While the remotest hamlets blessings share
  In thy loved [171] presence known, and only there; 600
  Heart-blessings—­outward treasures too which the eye
  Of the sun peeping through the clouds can spy,
  And every passing breeze will testify. [172]
  There, to the porch, belike with jasmine bound
  Or woodbine wreaths, a smoother path is wound; [173] 605
  The housewife there a brighter garden sees,
  Where hum on busier wing her happy bees; [174]
  On infant cheeks there fresher roses blow;
  And grey-haired men look up with livelier brow,—­[175]
  To greet the traveller needing food and rest; 610
  Housed for the night, or but a half-hour’s guest. [176]

    And oh, fair France! though now the traveller sees
  Thy three-striped banner fluctuate on the breeze;[177]
  Though martial songs have banished songs of love,
  And nightingales desert the village grove, [178] 615
  Scared by the fife and rumbling drum’s alarms,
  And the short thunder, and the flash of arms;
  That cease not till night falls, when far and nigh,
  Sole sound, the Sourd [Gg] prolongs his

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.