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POEMS

BY

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

1804.

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LUCY GRAY;

OR, SOLITUDE.

OFT i had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.

No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
Sue dwelt on a wide moor,
-The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

“To-night will be a stormy night
You to the town must go;
And take a lantern, child, to light
Your mother through the snow."

That, father! will I gladly do: 'Tis scarcely afternoonThe minster-clock has just struck two, And yonder is the moon !"

At this the father raised his hook,
And snapped a fagot-band;
He plied his work ;--and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe :
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powdery snow
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time :
She wandered up and down ;
And many a hill did Lucy climb;
But never reached the town.

The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide ;
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlooked the moor;
And thence they saw the bridge of wood,
A furlong from their door.

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