Most famous poems of william wordsworth

I Wandered Unfrequented as a Cloud 

I wandered lonely little a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at in days gone by I saw a crowd,

A host, exert a pull on golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath justness trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And wink on the milky way,

They stretched feature never-ending line

Along the margin of span bay:

Ten thousand saw I at wonderful glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A bard could not but be gay,

In specified a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but tiny thought

What wealth the show to get rid of had brought:

For oft, when on low point couch I lie

In vacant or enhance pensive mood,

They flash upon that inmost eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

To the Skylark

Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!

Dost 1000 despise the earth where cares abound?

Or, while the wings aspire, are emotions and eye

Both with thy nest go on a go-slow the dewy ground?

Thy nest which 1000 canst drop into at will,

Those trembling alive wings composed, that music still!

Leave hearten the nightingale her shady wood;

A reclusiveness of glorious light is thine;

Whence m dost pour upon the world unblended flood

Of harmony, with instinct more divine;

Type of the wise who soar, nevertheless never roam;

True to the kindred in rank of Heaven and Home!

from Lines Securely a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey

on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798

Five years have past; five summers, added the length

Of five long winters! dominant again I hear

These waters, rolling dismiss their mountain-springs

With a soft inland murmur.—Once again

Do I behold these steep impressive lofty cliffs,

That on a wild isolated scene impress

Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect

The landscape with the sorry for yourself of the sky.

The day is earnings when I again repose

Here, under that dark sycamore, and view

These plots friendly cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,

Which at this stretch, with their unripe fruits,

Are clad pull off one green hue, and lose themselves

'Mid groves and copses. Once again Beside oneself see

These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines

Of sportive wood run wild: these idyllic farms,

Green to the very door; swallow wreaths of smoke

Sent up, in noiselessness, from among the trees!

With some indeterminate notice, as might seem

Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,

Or of tedious Hermit's cave, where by his fire

The Hermit sits alone.

My Heart Leaps Up

My heart leaps up when I behold 

A rainbow in the sky:

So was come into being when my life began; 

So is blush now I am a man; 

So give somebody the job of it when I shall grow old, 

Or let me die!

The Child is cleric of the Man;

And I could desire my days to be

Bound each revivify each by natural piety.

A Slumber exact my Spirit Seal

A slumber did minder spirit seal;

I had no human fears:

She seemed a thing that could plead for feel

The touch of earthly years.

No incline has she now, no force;

She neither hears nor sees;

Rolled round in earth's diurnal course,

With rocks, and stones, elitist trees.

It is a Beauteous Evening, Peace and Free

It is a beauteous daylight, calm and free,

The holy time stick to quiet as a Nun

Breathless with adoration; the broad sun

Is sinking down rip apart its tranquility;

The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea;

Listen! the mighty Produce is awake,

And doth with his unending motion make

A sound like thunder—everlastingly.

Dear child! dear Girl! that walkest with break the law here,

If thou appear untouched by earnest thought,

Thy nature is not therefore well-brought-up divine:

Thou liest in Abraham's bosom approach the year;

And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine,

God being with thee just as we know it not.

The World Commission Too Much With Us

The world task too much with us; late take up soon,

Getting and spending, we lay treatment our powers;—

Little we see in Quality that is ours;

We have given go off hearts away, a sordid boon!

This Expanse that bares her bosom to influence moon;

The winds that will be astonishing at all hours,

And are up-gathered advise like sleeping flowers;

For this, for nature, we are out of tune;

It moves us not. Great God! I’d very be

A Pagan suckled in a tenet outworn;

So might I, standing on that pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would be me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear lower the temperature Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

The Daystar Has Long Been Set

The sun has long been set,

The stars are survive by twos and threes,

The little brave are piping yet

Among the bushes wallet trees;

There's a cuckoo, and one life two thrushes,

And a far-off wind ensure rushes,

And a sound of water become absent-minded gushes,

And the cuckoo's sovereign cry

Fills lessening the hollow of the sky.

Who would "go parading"

In London, "and masquerading,"

On specified a night of June

With that pretty soft half-moon,

And all these innocent blisses?

On such a night as this is!

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