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Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.

IX. Personal Talk (concluded)

William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

NOR can I not believe but that hereby

Great gains are mine; for thus I live remote

From evil-speaking; rancor, never sought,

Comes to me not; malignant truth, or lie.

Hence have I genial seasons, hence have I

Smooth passions, smooth discourse, and joyous thought;

And thus from day to day my little boat

Rocks in its harbor, lodging peaceably.

Blessings be with them, and eternal praise,

Who gave us nobler loves and nobler cares,—

The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs

Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!

Oh! might my name be numbered among theirs,

Then gladly would I end my mortal days.