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5 giorni fa · Resolution And Independence. And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters. Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run. And all the ways of men, so vain and melancholy. Dim sadness-and blind thoughts, I knew not, nor could name. Solitude, pain of heart, distress, and poverty.
5 giorni fa · Instinctive homage pay; Nor wants the dim-lit cave a wreath. To honor thee, sweet May! Where cities fanned by thy brisk airs. Behold a smokeless sky, Their puniest flower -pot-nursling dares. To open a bright eye. And if, on this thy natal morn, The pole, from which thy name.
4 giorni fa · The Daffodils. I wandered lonely as a cloud. That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine. And twinkle on the milky way,
4 giorni fa · Three Years She Grew. Three years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, “A lovelier flower. On earth was never sown; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make. A Lady of my own. “Myself will to my darling be. Both law and impulse: and with me.
5 giorni fa · But when the Pony moved his legs, Oh! then for the poor Idiot Boy! For joy he cannot hold the bridle, For joy his head and heels are idle, He's idle all for very joy. And while the Pony moves his legs, In Johnny's left hand you may see. The green bough motionless and dead: The Moon that shines above his head.
4 giorni fa · And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish; Were called upon to exercise their skill, Not in Utopia, subterranean fields, Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where! But in the very world, which is the world. Of all of us, the place where in the end. We find our happiness, or not at all! William Wordsworth. Rate:
5 giorni fa · To May. THOUGH many suns have risen and set. Since thou, blithe May, wert born, And Bards, who hailed thee, may forget. Thy gift, thy beauty scorn; There are who to a birthday strain. Confine not harp and voice, But evermore throughout thy reign. Are grateful and rejoice!
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