EARTH
HAS NOT ANYTHING TO SHOW MORE FAIR
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.
The city now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning, silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie,
Open into the fields, and to the Sky,
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully sleep
In his first splendour, valley, rock or hill.
Never 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 my mighty heart is lying still.