Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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"HOW RICH THAT FOREHEAD'S CALM EXPANSE"

          HOW rich that forehead's calm expanse!
          How bright that heaven-directed glance!
          --Waft her to glory, winged Powers,
          Ere sorrow be renewed,
          And intercourse with mortal hours
          Bring back a humbler mood!
          So looked Cecilia when she drew
          An Angel from his station;
          So looked; not ceasing to pursue
          Her tuneful adoration!                                      10
          But hand and voice alike are still;
          No sound 'here' sweeps away the will
          That gave it birth: in service meek
          One upright arm sustains the cheek,
          And one across the bosom lies--
          That rose, and now forgets to rise,
          Subdued by breathless harmonies
          Of meditative feeling;
          Mute strains from worlds beyond the skies,
          Through the pure light of female eyes,                      20
          Their sanctity revealing!
                                                              1824.


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