Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
William Wordsworth
1770 to 1850
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Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull he be of soul who could pass by
A so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!