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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Friday Poetry

The daffodils are out so I thought a suitable poem was required. Also I do believe the weekly poetry reading is starting to work as I am finding more and more poems that I enjoy reading.

Happy friday everyone and I hope you all have some excellent reading planned for the weekend.

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

 

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

 

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed – and gazed – but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

 

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

 

William Wordsworth

 

Lady Book Dragon

Friday Poetry

Happy Friday! The first snowdrops are out so I thought a suitable poem was needed.

 

To A Snowdrop

Lone flower, hemmed in with snows, and white as they
But hardier far, once more I see thee bend
Thy forehead as if fearful to offend,
Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day
Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, waylay
The rising sun, and on the plains descend;
Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend
Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed May
Shall soon behold this border thickly set
With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing
On the soft west-wind and its frolic peers;
Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
Chaste snowdrop, venturous harbinger of Spring,
And pensive monitor of fleeting years!

William Wordsworth

 

Lady Book Dragon.

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