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 (5)

Some nice Somuch nice
......beautiful, was nice to read a second time ★
SCENE I. London. QUEEN KATHARINE's apartments. Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work QUEEN KATHARINE Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working. SONG Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
this is from ''Henry VIII'', Act III, Scene 1
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out