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1770–1850

THE POEM

William Wordsworth

How richly glows the water's breast Before us, tinged with evening hues, While, facing thus the crimson west, The boat her silent coursepursues!

And see how dark the backward stream! A little moment past so smiling! And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam, Some other loiterersbeguiling.

Such views the youthful Bard allure; But, heedless of the following gloom, He deems their colours shall endure Till peace go with him to the tomb.

— And let him nurse his fond deceit, And what if he must die in sorrow! Who would not cherish dreams so sweet, Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?

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THE POEM · William Wordsworth · Poetry Cove