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Normale Version: To Wordsworth: Yes, mighty Poet, we have read thy lines,
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Yes, mighty Poet, we have read thy lines,
And felt our hearts the better for the reading,
A friendly spirit, from thy soul proceeding,
Unites our souls; the light from thee that shines

Like the first break of morn, dissolves, combines
All creatures with a living flood of beauty.
For thou hast proved that purest joy is duty,
And love a foundling, that the trunk entwines

Of sternest fortitude. Oh, what must be
Thy glory here, and what the huge reward
In that blest region of thy poesy?

For long as man exist, immortal Bard,
Friends, husbands, wives, in sadness or in glee,
Shall love each other more for loving thee.


March 26th, 1839