| To William Wordsworth |
| Allison Larsen |
| Oh William my brother , dear William my friend May I follow you down to the river's wide bend? I too have grown weary of the noise and the strife, The sorrow, the utter confusion of life. I long for sweet childhood and it's carefree days But alas! they have vanished in this now present haze That blots our the memory of celestial light As clouds that blot out the moon by night. But William, what comfort I find in your words! Which remind me once more of the singing of birds, Of the smell of the earth, of the sound of the rain; The warmth of the sun can drive away pain. And, William, I too feel my life rushing by; I sadly look back with a tear in my eye. But William, the kinship I feel with your soul Has somehow made all the fragments whole Your world of the past, and mine here and now Have been brought together as one somehow, By the immortal words of eternal truth That die not with age, but live on with youth. |
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