William Wordsworth 3a | Página 3

A complaint

There is a change--and Iam poor;

your love hath been,nor long ago

a fountain at my fond heart`s door

whose only business was to flow

and flow it did ; not taking heed

of its own bounty,or my need.

What happy moments did I count?

Blest was I then all bliss above

now, for that consecrated fount

of murmuring, sparking, living love.

what have I? shall I dare to tell?

a confotless and hiden well.

A well of love--it may be deep--

it trust it is,--and never dry:

What matter? If the waters sleep

in the silence and obscurity

--such change, and at the very door

of my fond heart, hath made me poor.

My heart leaps

up

My heart leaps up when I behold

a rainbow in the sky:

so was it wIen my life began

so is it now I Am a man

so be it when I shall grow old

or let me die

the hild is the father of the man

and i could wish my days to be

bound each to each by natural piety.

3

some poems