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William Wordsworth (Уильям Вордсворт)


October, 1803


These times strike monied worldlings with dismay:
Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air
With words of apprehension and despair:
While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,
Men unto whom sufficient for the day
And minds not stinted or untilled are given,
Sound, healthy, children of the God of heaven,
Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.
What do we gather hence but firmer faith
That every gift of noble origin
Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;
That virtue and the faculties within
Are vital,—and that riches are akin
To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death?



William Wordsworth's other poems:
  1. Hart’s-Horn Tree, near Penrith
  2. Monastery of Old Bangor
  3. To the Lady Eleanor Butler and the Hon. Miss Ponsonby
  4. Inside of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge: Continued
  5. Cave of Staffa


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