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Calm Is All Nature As A Resting Wheel

Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his later meal:
Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal
O'er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky.
Now, in this blank of things, a harmony,
Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal
That grief for which the senses still supply
Fresh food; for only then, when memory
Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain
Those busy cares that would allay my pain;
Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel
The officious touch that makes me droop again.

by William Wordsworth

Comments (10)

Very nice lines
A great poem from the great poet whose works are so much interested.
I, for no reason, never got any pleasure from reading Wordsworth's poetry. I am prepared to give it another go.
Wordsworth was grieving a tragic loss, and here descibes how he finds a moment of solace at the end of the day, just at twilight. In this blankness he forgets and finds relief. Today, with so much artificial noise and electric lighting, i do not believe this situation would prove helpful for him. I wonder how a contemporary poet would express a moment in the day when he might find a little peace from the nagging loss of one dear to him?
A wonderful sonnet from the lover of Nature, Wordsworth to read!
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