WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
The rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the rose;
The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare ;
Waters on a starry night
Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath pass'd away a glory from the earth.
Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young lambs bound
As to the tabor's bound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief,
And I again am strong
The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; 1 hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of bleep, And all the earth is gay;
Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity,
And with the heart of May Doth every beast keep holiday;
Thou Child of Joy,
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd- boy'
Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call
Ye to each other make; I sec The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My heart is at your festival,
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