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That cannot be," one answered, " She is dead." " Nay but I gave her pence, and
she will buy you bread." " She has been dead, Sir, many a day." " Sweet Boys,
you're telling me a lie ; It was your Mother, as I say — " And in the twinkling of an
... By what means it could thither come, and whence ; So that it seems a thing
endued with sense : Like a Sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf Of rock or
sand reposeth, there to sun itself; Such seemed this Man, not all alive nor dead,
Nor all ...
No more I know, I wish I did, And I would tell it all to you For what became of this
poor child There's none that ever knew: And if a child was born or no, There's no
one that could ever tell ; And if 'twas born alive or dead, There's no one knows, ...
The Ass looks on — and to his work Is Peter quietly resigned ; He touches here
— he touches there — And now among the dead man's hair His sapling Peter
has entwined. He pulls — and looks — and pulls again ; And he whom the poor
At length she learned how he espied The Ass in that small meadow ground ; And
that her husband now lay dead, Beside that luckless river's bed i In which he had
been drowned. A piercing look the Sufferer cast Upon the Beast that near her ...
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the kitten of the filling leaves bp[y willam words worth
My favorite is "Solitary Reaper". When I first read it, I fell in love with the poem. It's like Wordsworth wrote it for me only.
I always feel understood and totally embraced everytime I read this poem and walk away with a full heart.