by William Wordsworth
This is the spot:—how mildly does the sun
Shine in between the fading leaves! the air
In the habitual silence of this wood
Is more than silent: and this bed of heath,
Where shall we find so sweet a resting-place?
Come!—let me see thee sink into a dream
Of quiet thoughts,—protracted till thine eye
Be calm as water when the winds are gone
And no one can tell whither.—my sweet friend!
We two have had such happy hours together,
That my heart melts in me to think of it.
|Photo of Meadowbrook Park by J. Shovan
This week, I am thankful to Carol of Carol's Corner for hosting our Poetry Friday feast.