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Normale Version: Read, Thomas Buchanan: To Wordsworth
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To Wordsworth

Thy rise was as the morning, glorious, bright!
And Error vanished like the affrighted dark;
While many a soul, as the aspiring lark,
Waked by thy dawn soared singing to the light,

Drowning in gladdest song the earth’s despite!
And Beauty blossomed in all lowly nooks:
Love, like a river made of nameless brooks,
Grew and exulted in thy wakening sight:

All nature hailed thee as a risen sun;
Nor will thy setting blur her thankful eyes!
While earth remains thy day shall not be done,

Nor cloud dispread to blot thy matchless skies; -
When Death’s command, like Joshua’s, shall arise,
Thou ‘lt stand as stood the Sun of Gibeon.