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Poem by William Wordsworth


A Complaint


There is a changeand I am poor;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart's door,
Whose only business was to flow;
And flow it did; not taking heed
Of its own bounty, or my need.

What happy moments did I count!
Blest was I then all bliss above!
Now, for that consecrated fount
Of murmuring, sparkling, living love,
What have I? shall I dare to tell?
A comfortless and hidden well.

A well of loveit may be deep
I trust it is,and never dry:
What matter? if the waters sleep
In silence and obscurity.
Such change, and at the very door
Of my fond heart, hath made me poor.



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 River Duddon (WHENCE that low voice?)


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Henry Farley A Complaint ("TO see a strange outlandish fowl")
  • Rose Cooke A Complaint ("A hot noon filled the Autumn sky")

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