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O
HE New-comer
I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice
HE New-comer
I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice

I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea;
Nor,
England
did I know till then What love I bore to thee
Nor,
England
did I know till then What love I bore to thee

A slumber did my spirit seal; I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years
No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, a...
She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years
No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, a...

Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes To pace the ground, if path be there or none, While a fair region round the traveller lies Which he forbears again to look upon; Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene, The work of Fancy, or some happy tone...

Departing summer hath
An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of spring;
That calls from yonder leafy
An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of spring;
That calls from yonder leafy

The cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter The green field sleeps in the sun; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising;
There are...
There are...

From Stirling castle we had seen The mazy Forth unravelled; Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay, And with the Tweed had travelled; And when we came to Clovenford, Then said my "winsome Marrow ," "Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside, ...

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
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

Serene, and fitted to embrace, Where'er he turned, a swan-like grace Of haughtiness without pretence, And to unfold a still magnificence, Was princely Dion, in the power And beauty of his happier hour
And what pure homage then did wait On Dio...
And what pure homage then did wait On Dio...

———The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close,
Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,
A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow fa...
Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,
A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow fa...

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass byA sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment,
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Dull would he be of soul who could pass byA sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment,
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

There is a change—and I am poor;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart's door,
Whose only business was to flow;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart's door,
Whose only business was to flow;

I marvel how Nature could ever find space For so many strange contrasts in one human face:
There's thought and no thought, and there's paleness and bloom And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom
There's weakness, and strength both...
There's thought and no thought, and there's paleness and bloom And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom
There's weakness, and strength both...

I
RD a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant
RD a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant

The peace which others seek they find;
The heaviest storms not longest last;
Heaven grants even to the guiltiest
An amnesty for what is past;
The heaviest storms not longest last;
Heaven grants even to the guiltiest
An amnesty for what is past;

—It seems a day (I speak of one from many singled out) One of those heavenly days that cannot die; When, in the eagerness of boyish hope, I left our cottage-threshold, sallying forth With a huge wallet o'er my shoulders slung, A nutting-crook in h...