YES! thou art fair, yet be not moved
To scorn the declaration,
That sometimes I in thee have loved
My fancy's own creation.
Imagination needs must stir;
Dear Maid, this truth believe,
Minds that have nothing to confer
Find little to perceive.
Be pleased that nature made thee fit
To feed my heart's devotion,
By laws to which all Forms submit
In sky, air, earth, and ocean.
More verses by William Wordsworth
- How Sweet It Is, When Mother Fancy Rocks
- Matthew
- Even As A Dragon’s Eye That Feels The Stress
- Invocation To The Earth, February 1816
- Written In Very Early Youth