Poem by William Wordsworth

* * *

Brook! whose society the Poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious Painter doth pursue
Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks,
And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks;
If wish were mine some type of thee to view,
Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do
Like Grecian Artists, give thee human cheeks,
Channels for tears; no Naiad should'st thou be,—
Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints nor hairs:
It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee
With purer robes than those of flesh and blood,
And hath bestowed on thee a safer good;
Unwearied joy, and life without its cares.

1. Upon the Sight of a Beautiful Picture Painted by Sir G. H. Beaumont, Bart
2. Alice Fell, Or Poverty
3. To the Memory of Raisley Calvert
4. Rural Architecture
5. The Sparrow's Nest

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