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Poem by William Wordsworth It Is No Spirit It is no Spirit who from Heaven hath flown, And is descending on his embassy; Nor Traveller gone from Earth the Heavens to espy! 'Tis Hesperus—there he stands with glittering crown, First admonition that the sun is down, For yet it is broad day-light!—clouds pass by; A few are near him still—and now the sky, He hath it to himself—'tis all his own. O most ambitious Star! an inquest wrought Within me when I recognised thy light; A moment I was startled at the sight: And, while I gazed, there came to me a thought That even I beyond my natural race Might step as thou dost now:—might one day trace Some ground not mine; and, strong her strength above, My Soul, an Apparition in the place, Tread there, with steps that no one shall reprove! 1807 William Wordsworth William Wordsworth's other poems: 1755 Views |
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