William Wordsworth

From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.

From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.

Hail to thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, linnet! in thy read more

Hail to thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, linnet! in thy green array,
Presiding spirit here to-day,
Dost lead the revels of the May;
And this is thy dominion.

Faith is a passionate intuition.

Faith is a passionate intuition.

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none read more

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love.

There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
read more

There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.