THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, D.C.L., POET LAUREATE, ETC. ETC. A NEW EDITION. LONDON: EDWARD MOXON, DOVER STREET. MDCCCXLV. Ir thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven, And they that from the zenith dart their beams, (Visible though they be to half the earth, Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness) Are yet of no diviner origin, No purer essence, than the one that burns, Like an untended watch-fire, on the ridge Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps, All are the undying offspring of one Sire: |