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Surprised by joy--impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport--O! with whom
...But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recall'd thee to my mind--
...But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
...Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss?--That thought's return
...Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
...Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
...Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
I turned to share the transport--O! with whom
...But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recall'd thee to my mind--
...But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
...Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss?--That thought's return
...Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
...Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
...Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
