A Poem by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850) - To My Sister
A Poem by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850) - To My Sister
To My Sister
It is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before,
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.
There is a blessing in the air,
Which seems a sense of joy to yield
To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
And grass in the green field.
Love, now a universal birth,
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
--It is the hour of feeling.
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