It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,
Ran with a young man's speed; and yet the voice
Of waters which the winter had supplied
Was softened down into a vernal tone.
The spirit of enjoyment and desire,
And hopes and wishes, from all living things
Went circling, like a multitude of sounds.
The budding groves seemed eager to urge on
The steps of June; as if their various hues
Were only hindrances that stood between
Them and their object: but, meanwhile, prevailed
Such an entire contentment in the air
That every naked ash, and tardy tree
Yet leafless, showed as if the countenance
With which it looked on this delightful day
Were native to the summer.--Up the brook
I roamed in the confusion of my heart,
Alive to all things and forgetting all.
At length I to a sudden turning came
In this continuous glen, where down a rock
The Stream, so ardent in its course before,
Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all
Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice
Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the lamb,
The shepherd's dog, the linnet and the thrush
Vied with this waterfall, and made a song,
Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild growth
Or like some natural produce of the air,
That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here;
But 'twas the foliage of the rocks--the birch,
The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn,
With hanging islands of resplendent furze:
And, on a summit, distant a short space,
By any who should look beyond the dell,
A single mountain-cottage might be seen.
I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said,
"Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook,
My EMMA, I will dedicate to thee."
----Soon did the spot become my other home,
My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode.
And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there,
To whom I sometimes in our idle talk
Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps,
Years after we are gone and in our graves,
When they have cause to speak of this wild place,
May call it by the name of EMMA'S DELL.
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More Poems by William Wordsworth
• A Character
• A Night Piece
• A Whirl Blast from Behind the Hill
• Andrew Jones
• Anecdote For Fathers
• Animal Tranquillity and Decay
• Calm is all Nature as a Resting Wheel
• Ellen Irwin
• Expostulation and Reply
• I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud
• Influence of Natural Objects
• It was an April Morning: fresh and clear
• Lines Left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree
• Lines Written In Early Spring
• Lucy Gray
• Nutting
• Ode, Composed On A May Morning
• Remembrance of Collins
• Rural Architecture
• She Dwelt Among Untrodden Ways
• She Was a Phantom of Delight
• Passion Have I Known
• Surprised By Joy
• The Birth of Love
• The Childless Father
• The Forsaken
• The Green Linnet
• The Mother's Return
• The Pet Lamb: A Pastoral
• The Rainbow
• The Reverie of Poor Susan
• She Grew In Sun
• The Solitary Reaper
• The World Is To Much With Us; Late And Soon
• We Are Seven
• With Ships the Sea was Sprinkled Far and Nigh
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William Wordsworth It was an April Morning - Poem Lyrics - William Wordsworth - It was an April Morning: fresh and clear
