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March 23, 2017

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth


Earth has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

A sight so touching in its majesty:

This City now doth, like a garment, wear

The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Posted by gerardvanderleun at March 23, 2017 9:57 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.

Your Say

You'll be unsurprised to know that when we covered this poem in Brit Lit last quarter, it was about 70% male rape fantasy and 100% crushing male patriarchy.

I gave it a much more useful and honest treatment on the midterm and scored very high. So far I may be receiving obnoxious instruction form time to time, but I am receiving honest grading and evaluations.

Posted by: Andy at March 23, 2017 10:40 AM

Which is all one can reasonably ask for.

Posted by: Vanderleun at March 23, 2017 12:24 PM

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