Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works


          AMONG a grave fraternity of Monks,
          For One, but surely not for One alone,
          Triumphs, in that great work, the Painter's skill,
          Humbling the body, to exalt the soul;
          Yet representing, amid wreck and wrong
          And dissolution and decay, the warm
          And breathing life of flesh, as if already
          Clothed with impassive majesty, and graced
          With no mean earnest of a heritage
          Assigned to it in future worlds. Thou, too,                 10
          With thy memorial flower, meek Portraiture!
          From whose serene companionship I passed
          Pursued by thoughts that haunt me still; thou also--
          Though but a simple object, into light
          Called forth by those affections that endear
          The private hearth; though keeping thy sole seat
          In singleness, and little tried by time,
          Creation, as it were, of yesterday--
          With a congenial function art endued
          For each and all of us, together joined                     20
          In course of nature under a low roof
          By charities and duties that proceed
          Out of the bosom of a wiser vow.
          To a like salutary sense of awe
          Or sacred wonder, growing with the power
          Of meditation that attempts to weigh,
          In faithful scales, things and their opposites,
          Can thy enduring quiet gently raise
          A household small and sensitive,--whose love,
          Dependent as in part its blessings are                      30
          Upon frail ties dissolving or dissolved
          On earth, will be revived, we trust, in heaven.



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