Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/125

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

117

XII.

LINES

WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING.



I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.


To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.


Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.