XIV - Composed Upon Westminster Bridge

    Sept. 3, 1803.




  Earth has not any thing to shew more fair:
  Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
  A sight so touching in it's majesty:
  This City now doth like a garment wear
  The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
  Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
  Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
  All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
  Never did sun more beautifully steep
  In his first splendor valley, rock, or hill;
  Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
  The river glideth at his own sweet will:
  Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
  And all that mighty heart is lying still!

• About William Wordsworth