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1770–1850

TO LADY BEAUMONT

William Wordsworth

Lady! the songs of Spring were in the grove While I was shaping beds forwinter flowers; While I was planting green unfading bowers, And shrubs — to hang upon the warm alcove,

And sheltering wall; and still, as Fancy wove The dream, to time and nature's blended powers I gave this paradise for winter hours, A labyrinth, Lady! which your feet shall rove.

Yes! when the sun of life more feebly shines, Becoming thoughts, I trust, of solemn gloom Or of high gladness you shall hither bring; And these perennial bowers and murmuring pines

Be gracious as the music and the bloom And all the mighty ravishment of spring.

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TO LADY BEAUMONT · William Wordsworth · Poetry Cove