Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
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Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
 
VII. Personal Talk (continued)
By William Wordsworth (1770–1850)
 
“YET life,” you say, “is life; we have seen and see,
And with a living pleasure we describe;
And fits of sprightly malice do but bribe
The languid mind into activity.
Sound sense, and love itself, and mirth and glee        5
Are fostered by the comment and the gibe.”
Even be it so: yet still among your tribe,
Our daily world’s true worldlings, rank not me!
Children are blest, and powerful; their world lies
More justly balanced; partly at their feet,        10
And part far from them:—sweetest melodies
Are those that are by distance made more sweet; 1
Whose mind is but the mind of his own eyes,
He is a slave; the meanest we can meet.
 
Note 1. “In notes by distance made more sweet.”—COLLINS. [back]
 
 
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