poet William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth

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A Parsonage In Oxfordshire

Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends,
Is marked by no distinguishable line;
The turf unites, the pathways intertwine;
And, wheresoe'er the stealing footstep tends,
Garden, and that domain where kindred, friends,
And neighbours rest together, here confound
Their several features, mingled like the sound
Of many waters, or as evening blends
With shady night. Soft airs, from shrub and flower,
Waft fragrant greetings to each silent grave;
And while those lofty poplars gently wave
Their tops, between them comes and goes a sky
Bright as the glimpses of eternity,
To saints accorded in their mortal hour.

Poem Submitted: Monday, April 5, 2010

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Comments about A Parsonage In Oxfordshire by William Wordsworth

  • Khairul AhsanKhairul Ahsan (11/21/2020 10:58:00 PM)

    'Bright as the glimpses of eternity,
    To saints accorded in their mortal hour.' - So nicely said!

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  • Mahtab BangaleeMahtab Bangalee (11/21/2020 10:18:00 PM)

    Their tops, between them comes and goes a sky
    Bright as the glimpses of eternity,
    To saints accorded in their mortal hour. //Oxfordshire is a landlocked county in South East England where the Clergy house which brought the bright as the glimpses of eternity to the pure souls to make the saints!

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  • Dr Tony BrahminDr Tony Brahmin (11/21/2020 8:13:00 PM)

    And while those lofty poplars gently wave
    Their tops, between them comes and goes a sky
    Bright as the glimpses of eternity,
    To saints accorded in their mortal hour.
    The great Wordsworth

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  • Edward Kofi LouisEdward Kofi Louis (11/21/2020 12:32:00 PM)

    Pathways of the truth! ! ! !


    Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

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  • John SJohn S (11/21/2020 11:13:00 AM)

    holy and unhallowed ground unite at no distinguishable line, the turf unites and intertwines. This makes me think Wordsworth was saying the difference between holy beings and mere mortal beings is confounded. They mingle like the sound of many waters or as evening blends with shady night. I am like God and God like me.
    I am as large as God, He is as small as I. He cannot above me, nor I beneath him be. Maybe, we are all eternal and holy in some way.

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  • Ramesh T ARamesh T A (11/21/2020 6:46:00 AM)

    Nature Poet's simple but sincerely depicted Oxfordshire is still surpassing sonnets of this kind sure!

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  • Osazee DankaroOsazee Dankaro (11/21/2020 6:27:00 AM)

    Waft fragrant greetings to each silent grave;
    Nice

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  • Kumarmani MahakulKumarmani Mahakul (11/21/2020 12:28:00 AM)

    Waft fragrant greetings to each silent grave;
    And while those lofty poplars gently wave...This philosophic poem echoes with much brilliance and we feel the bright glimpse of eternity. An excellent poem is well penned.

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  • * Sunprincess * (3/15/2014 7:20:00 AM)

    A Parsonage In Oxfordshire



    Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends,
    Is marked by no distinguishable line;
    The turf unites, the pathways intertwine;
    And, wheresoe'er the stealing footstep tends,
    Garden, and that domain where kindred, friends,
    And neighbours rest together, here confound
    Their several features, mingled like the sound
    Of many waters, or as evening blends
    With shady night. Soft airs, from shrub and flower,
    Waft fragrant greetings to each silent grave;
    And while those lofty poplars gently wave
    Their tops, between them comes and goes a sky
    Bright as the glimpses of eternity,
    To saints accorded in their mortal hour.
    .....I can feel the essence of peace
    coming through in this write...enjoyed..

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    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.



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