Poem by William Wordsworth

The Reverie of Poor Susan

AT the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a thrush that sings loud,—it has sung for three years;
Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard
In the silence of morning the song of the bird.

’T is a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees
A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;
Bright volumes of vapor through Lothbury glide,
And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.

Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale,
Down which she so often has tripped with her pail;
And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove’s,
The one only dwelling on earth that she loves.

She looks, and her heart is in heaven; but they fade,
The mist and the river, the hill and the shade:
The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise,
And the colors have all passed away from her eyes!

1. To the Sons of Burns
2. Monument of Mrs. Howard
3. Suggested at Tyndrum in a Storm
4. Roman Antiquities
5. Roman Antiquities Discovered at Bishopstone, Herefordshire

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