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By thirty hills I hurry down,

Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town,

And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow

To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.

I chatter over stony ways,

In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays,

I babble on the pebbles.

With many a curve my banks I fret

By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set

With willow-weed and mallow.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow

To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.

I wind about, and in and out,

With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout,

And here and there a grayling,

And here and there a foamy flake

Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak

Above the golden gravel,

And draw them all along, and flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots,

I slide by hazel covers ;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots

grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,

Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance

Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars

In brambly wildernesses ;
linger by my shingly bars ;
I loiter round my cresses ;

And out again I curve and flow

To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.



A. wight,

Alone and palely loitering ? The sedge is wither'd from the lake,

And no birds sing.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,

So haggard and so woe-begone ?

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I see a lily on thy brow,

With anguish moist and fever-dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

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I met a Lady in the meads,

Full beautiful, a fairy's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild..

I set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing

A fairy's song.
I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone:
She look'd at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan.

She found me roots of relish sweet,

And honey wild, and manna dew; And sure in language strange she said,

I love thee true.

She took me to her elfin grot,

And there she gazed and sighèd deep, And there I shut her wild sad eyes

So kiss'd to sleep.

And there we slumber'd on the moss,

And there I dream'd, ah woe betide, The latest dream I ever dream'd

On the cold hill-side.

I saw pale kings, and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all ; Who cried “ La belle Dame sans mercy

Hath thee in thrall !”

I saw their starved lips in the gloom

With horrid warning gapèd wide, And I awoke and found me here,

On the cold hill-side.

And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing




URPRISED by joy-impatient as the Wind
I turn’d to share the transport-oh! with

But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find ?
Love, faithful love, recall’d thee to my mind
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss ?—That thought's return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more ;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.




YHILD, amidst the flowers at play,

While the red light fades away ;
Mother, with thine earnest eye
Ever following silently;
Father, by the breeze of eve
Call'd thy harvest work to leave;
Pray! ere yet the dark hours be,
Lift the heart and bend the knee !


Traveller, in the stranger's land,
Far from thine own household band;
Mourner, haunted by the tone
Of a voice from this world

gone ;
Captive, in whose narrow cell
Sunshine hath not leave to dwell;
Sailor, on the darkening sea ;
Lift the heart and bend the knee !

Warrior, that from battle won
Breathest now at set of sun ;
Woman, o'er the lowly slain
Weeping on the burial plain ;
Ye that triumph, ye that sigh,
Kindred by one holy tie,
Heaven's first star alike ye see, -
Lift the heart and bend the knee!


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