William Wordsworth

Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet read more

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.

Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing
Under the sky's gray arch;
Smiling I read more

Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing
Under the sky's gray arch;
Smiling I watch the shaken elm boughs, knowing
It is the wind of March.

Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
read more

Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.

I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
With coldness still returning;
Alas! the gratitude of men
read more

I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
With coldness still returning;
Alas! the gratitude of men
Hath often left me mourning.

Sad fancies do we then affect,
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
read more

Sad fancies do we then affect,
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
Of too familiar happiness.