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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS: PART 1: 22. SECLUSION (CONTINUED), by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: Methinks that to some vacant hermitage
Last Line: Tired of the world and all its industry.
First Line: Methinks that to some vacant hermitage
Last Line: Tired of the world and all its industry.
METHINKS that to some vacant hermitage
'My' feet would rather turn -- to some dry nook
Scooped out of living rock, and near a brook
Hurled down a mountain-cove from stage to stage,
Yet tempering, for my sight, its bustling rage
In the soft heaven of a translucent pool;
Thence creeping under sylvan arches cool,
Fit haunt of shapes whose glorious equipage
Would elevate my dreams. A beechen bowl,
A maple dish, my furniture should be;
Crisp, yellow leaves my bed; the hooting owl
My night-watch: nor should e'er the crested fowl
From thorp or vill his matins sound for me,
Tired of the world and all its industry.
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COMPOSED AT NEIDPATH CASTLE, 1803 by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
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