Poem by William Wordsworth

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?

1. Nunnery Dell
2. In the Sound of Mull
3. The Glen of Loch Etive
4. Inside of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge: The Same
5. In Sight of the Town of Cockermouth

Print

2900 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version