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Poem by William Wordsworth


Sonnet Composed During a Storm


THE WIND is now thy organist; a clank
(We know not whence) ministers for a bell
To mark some change of service. As the swell
Of music reached its height, and even when sank
The notes, in prelude, Roslin! to a blank
Of silence, how it thrilled thy sumptuous roof,
Pillars, and arches,Чnot in vain time-proof,
Though Christian rites be wanting! From what bank
Came those live herbs? by what hand were they sown,
Where dew falls not, where rain-drops seem unknown?
Yet in the Temple they a friendly niche
Share with their sculptured fellows, that, green-grown
Copy their beauty more and more, and preach,
Though mute, of all things blending into one.



William Wordsworth


William Wordsworth's other poems:
  1. Monastery of Old Bangor
  2. To the Lady Eleanor Butler and the Hon. Miss Ponsonby
  3. Mona
  4. Miserrimus
  5. The Brownie


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