Listen to:
I Love the Brooks (:41)
by William Wordsworth
performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode
Excerpt from Ode: Intimations of Immortality
I love the brooks which down
their channels fret,
Even more than when I tripp'd
lightly as they;
The innocent brightness of a
new-born Day
Is lovely yet;
The clouds that gather round
the setting sun
Do take a sober colouring
from an eye
That hath kept watch o'er
man's mortality;
Another race hath been, and
other palms are won.
Thanks to the human heart by
which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its
joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that
blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie
too deep for tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment