Society poems/ page 1 of 17 /
Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving muchUnvisited, endeavour'd to retraceMy life through its first years, and measured backThe way I travell'd when I first beganTo love the woods and fields; the passion yetWas in its birth, sustain'd, as might befal,By nourishment that came unsought, for still,From week to week, from month to month, we liv'dA round of tumult: duly were our gamesProlong'd in summer till the day-light fail'd;No chair remain'd before the doors, the benchAnd threshold steps were empty; fast asleepThe Labourer, and the old Man who had sate,A later lingerer, yet the revelryContinued, and the loud uproar: at last,When all the ground was dark, and the huge cloudsWere edged with twinkling stars, to bed we went,With weary joints, and with a beating mind
--Was it for thisThat one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'dTo blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,And from his alder shades and rocky falls,And from his fords and shallows, sent a voiceThat flow'd along my dreams? For this, didst Thou,O Derwent! travelling over the green PlainsNear my 'sweet Birthplace', didst thou, beauteous StreamMake ceaseless music through the night and dayWhich with its steady cadence, temperingOur human waywardness, compos'd my thoughtsTo more than infant softness, giving me,Among the fretful dwellings of mankind,A knowledge, a dim earnest, of the calmThat Nature breathes among the hills and groves
Ah, wherefore with infection should he liveAnd with his presence grace impietyThat sin by him advantage should achieveAnd lace it self with his society?Why should false painting imitate his cheekAnd steal dead seeing of his living hue?Why should poor beauty indirectly seekRoses of shadow since his rose is true?Why should he live, now nature bankrupt is,Begger'd of blood to blush through lively veins,For she hath no exchequer now but his,And proud of many, lives upon his gains? O him she stores, to show what wealth she had, In days long since, before these last so bad
I Who e're while the happy Garden sung,By one mans disobedience lost, now singRecover'd Paradise to all mankind,By one mans firm obedience fully tri'dThrough all temptation, and the Tempter foil'dIn all his wiles, defeated and repuls't,And Eden rais'd in the wast Wilderness
I love thee well my little wheel,And why I love thee I can tell:When tir'd of folly, shew and noise,Of feeling griefs, and feigning joys,Of visiting, and company,And all that's called society,I sought in solitude and peace,To sooth a mind too ill at ease,Thou kindly then thy aid didst lend,I found in thee almost a friend
A Poem Dedicated To The Memory Of The Late Learned And Eminent Mr. William Law, Professor Of Philoso
In silence to suppress my griefs I've tried,
And kept within its banks the swelling tide!
But all in vain: unbidden numbers flow;
Spite of myself my sorrows vocal grow.