* *

_Hart-Leap Well_.

Part ii

"A jolly place," said he, "in times of old!
But something ails it now: the spot is cursed."
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.

* * * * *

_Tintern Abbey_.

Sensations sweet
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.

* * * * *

That best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love.

* * * * *

That blessed mood,
In which the burden of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened.

* * * * *

The fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.

* * * * *

The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colors and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm
By thoughts supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.
But hearing often-times
The still, sad music of humanity.

* * * * *

_To a Skylark_.

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home.

* * * * *

_Peter Bell_.

Prologue. St. 1.

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon.

Prologue. St. 27.

The common growth of Mother Earth
Suffices me--her tears, her mirths
Her humblest mirth and tears.

Part i. St. 12.

A primrose by a river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more.

Part i. St. 15.

The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witchery of the soft blue sky!

Part i. St. 26.

As if the man had fixed his face,
In many a solitary place,
Against the wind and open sky!

_Miscellaneous Sonnets_.

Part i. xxx.

The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.

Part i. xxxiii.

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.

Part i. xxxv.

'Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower
Of Faith, and round the Sufferer's temples bind
Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower,
And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind