Poem by William Wordsworth

* * *

Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp
Sullenly glaring through sepulchral damp,
So burns yon Taper mid its black recess
Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless:
The Lake below reflects it not; the sky
Muffled in clouds affords no company
To mitigate and cheer its loneliness.
Yet round the body of that joyless Thing,
Which sends so far its melancholy light,
Perhaps are seated in domestic ring
A gay society with faces bright,
Conversing, reading, laughing;—or they sing,
While hearts and voices in the song unite.

1. Calais
2. Composed on the Eve of the Marriage of a Friend in the Vale of Grasmere
3. On Approaching Home after a Tour in Scotland
4. To ———
5. Methought I Saw the Footsteps of a Throne

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