Friday Poetry: William Wordsworth

Happy Friday!

How is everyone’s December going so far? I am slowly putting our decorations up for Christmas and it is helping me get into the festive mood. As you can see I have also started reading festive poetry.

 

from The River Duddon

The minstrels played their Christmas tune

To-night beneath my cottage eaves;

While, smitten by a lofty moon,

The encircling laurels, thick with leaves,

Gave back a rich and dazzling sheen,

That overpowered their natural green.

 

Through hill and valley every breeze

Had sunk to rest with folded wings:

Keen was the air, but could not freeze

Nor check the music of the strings;

So stout and hardy were the band

That scraped the chords with strenuous hand.

 

And who but listened? – till was paid

Respect to every inmate’s claim;

The greeting given, the music played

In honour of each household name,

Duly pronounced with lusty call,

And ‘Merry Christmas’ wished to all!

 

William Wordsworth

 

Happy Reading

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