William Wordsworth

The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising:
There are forty feeding like one!

The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising:
There are forty feeding like one!

But shapes that come not at an earthly call,
Will not depart when mortal voices bid.

But shapes that come not at an earthly call,
Will not depart when mortal voices bid.

The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.

The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.

And she hath smiles to earth unknown--
Smiles that with motion of their own
Do spread, and read more

And she hath smiles to earth unknown--
Smiles that with motion of their own
Do spread, and sink, and rise.

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon.

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon.