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1770–1850

XII

William Wordsworth

Down a swift Stream, thus far, a bold design Have we pursued, with livelier stir of heart Than his who sees, borne forward by the Rhine, The living landscapes greet him, and depart;

Sees spires fast sinking — up again to start! And strives the towers to number, that recline O'er the dark steeps, or on the horizon line Striding with shattered crests hiseye athwart.

So have we hurried on with troubled pleasure: Henceforth, as on the bosom of a stream That slackens, and spreads wide a watery gleam, We, nothing loth a lingering course to measure,

May gather up our thoughts, and mark at leisure How widely spread the interests of our theme.

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XII · William Wordsworth · Poetry Cove