150
SONNET COMPOSED UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth like a garment wear.
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie.
Open unto the fields, and to the sky:
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock or hill;
Ne’er saw I never felt a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! The very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
By William Wordsworth
WRITTEN IN MARCH
The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth
1
glitter,
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!
Like an army defeated
The snow hath
2
retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The plough-boy is whooping–anon–anon;
There’s joy in the mountains;
There’s life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!
By William Wordsworth
1
doth = does
2
hath = has
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