Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Wordsworth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">LOFTY and strenuous of sentiment<br>But narrow and partial in its scope and bent,<br>And thence the bigot of a local set<br>Of habitudes, meshed round him like a net.<br>Hence too his intellect, though large it be<br>By nature, hath one prime deficiency,—<br>Of moral difference that broad view which leads<br>The steps of thought beyond the snares of creeds<br>And circles of opinion, whether they<br>Be of the Old Time or of yesterday.<br>Hence too his narrow bias, I suspect,<br>Even in poesy to attempt a sect.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still as a Poet he is great and rare,<br>A King of Thought upon the peak of bare<br>And rigid majesty, for power immense<br>Enthroned for ever! And in spirit thence,—<br>Thence let him waft us on a white-wing’d dream<br>Within the murmur of some profluent stream,<br>And there, just whither a dim line of brakes<br>In the remotest haze of distance shakes,<br>On his lone rounds let Peter Bell be seen,—<br>Seen o’er the White Doe on the herbage green<br>Heard breathing where she lies, and near her there<br>“The oldest seeming man that ever wore grey hair.”<br>Then shall we find him verily a Seer<br>Of Nature’s myst’ries, simple and severe.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With what a plenitude of pure delight<br>He triumphs on the mountain’s cloudy height,<br>With what a gleeful harmony of joy<br>He wanders down the vale “as happy as a boy!”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How in his verse, each picture-pregnant phrase<br>Full to the eye some given shape conveys,<br>And thus though in the jarring city pent<br>Through him we reach the country and content.<br>Fond Memory apprehends with gladdened eyes<br>All that is richest in each wilding’s dyes<br>As blending with the beauty and the grace<br>Of some bright advent of our happier days—<br>Hears through the sway of greenest boughs, as heard<br>Even then, the far voice of some favourite bird,<br>The murmurous industry of bees, the low<br>Responsive throbs of Echo throbbing slow<br>Out of some lonely dell, as to the tread<br>Of our own feet in days for ever fled!<br>Then of some brook that gushes in his lines<br>Glad Fancy drinks or on the bank reclines,<br>While of far cloud, grey rock and ancient tree<br>The dusky shadows on the page we see:<br>Yea, the air sweetens as the spells prevail<br>And our locks seem to wave as in a mountain gale!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still there remains to tell the charm serene<br>Wherewith this Bard most sanctifies the scene:<br>’Tis that with eyes of love he’s quick to find<br>In all its forms meet ministers of Mind<br>And that with the rare wealth of his own heart<br>As with a golden chain he interlinks each part.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But vainly the fond spirit of youth may look<br>For its peculiar food in Wordsworth’s book,<br>Where Passion is but introduced to wear<br>A vestal’s tenderness, demure as fair:<br>Not as to see it the new soul desires,<br>In all the splendour of its tragic fires,<br>Or, at the least, in all the bright distress<br>And rosy beauty of its wilfulness!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Harpur">Charles Harpur</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354938" data-title="Wordsworth de Charles Harpur" data-description="LOFTY and strenuous of sentiment
But narrow and partial in its scope and bent,
And thence the bigot of a local set
Of habitudes, meshed round him like a net.
Hence too his intellect, though large it be
By nature, hath one prime deficiency,—
Of m..."></div>
</div>
</div>