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Poem by William Wordsworth To the Poet Dyer Bard of the Fleece, whose skilful Genius made That Work a living landscape fair and bright; Nor hallowed less with musical delight Than those soft scenes through which thy Childhood stray'd, Those southern Tracts of Cambria, "deep embayed, By green hills fenced, by Ocean's murmur lulled;" Though hasty Fame hath many a chaplet culled For worthless brows, while in the pensive shade Of cold neglect she leaves thy head ungraced, Yet pure and powerful minds, hearts meek and still, A grateful few, shall love thy modest Lay Long as the Shepherd's bleating flock shall stray O'er naked Snowdon's wide aerial waste; Long as the thrush shall pipe on Grongar Hill. William Wordsworth William Wordsworth's other poems:
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