William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

DEAR Child of Nature, let them rail!

—There is a nest in a green dale,

A harbour and a hold;

Where thou, a Wife and Friend, shalt see

Thy own heart-stirring days, and be

A light to young and old.

There, healthy as a Shepherd-boy,

And treading among flowers of joy

Which at no season fade,

Thou, while thy Babes around thee cling,

Shalt show us how divine a thing

A Woman may be made.

Thy thoughts and feelings shall not die,

Nor leave thee, when grey hairs are nigh,

A melancholy slave;

But an old age serene and bright,

And lovely as a Lapland night,

Shall lead thee to thy grave.