ADDRESS TO MY INFANT DAUGHTER , On being reminded , that she was a
Month old , on that Day . Hast thou then survived , Mild offspring of infirm
humanity , Meek Infant ! among all forlornest things The most forlorn , one life of
that bright ...
... or its cheerful face Of beauty , by the changing Moon adorned , Would , with
imperious admonition , then Have scored thine age , and punctually timed Thine
infant history , on the minds of those Who might have wandered with thee . -
Which close beside the Thorn you see , So fresh in all its beauteous dyes , Is like
an infant ' s grave in size , As like as like can be : But never , never any where ,
An infant ' s grave was half so fair . Now would you see this aged Thorn , This ...
I ' ve heard , the moss is spotted red With drops of that poor infant ' s blood : But
kill a new - born infant thus , I do not think she could ! Some say , if to the Pond
you go , And fix on it a steady view , The shadow of a babe you trace , A baby and
Each fibre of his frame was weak ; Weak all the animal within ; But , in its
helplessness , grew mild And gentle as an infant child , An infant that has known
no sin . ' Tis said , that through prevailing grace He , PART III . 333 PETER BELL .
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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.