The Poetry Corner

Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part III. - XLVII - Conclusion

By William Wordsworth

Why sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled, Coil within coil, at noon-tide? For the WORD Yields, if with unpresumptuous faith explored, Power at whose touch the sluggard shall unfold His drowsy rings. Look forth! that Stream behold, That stream upon whose bosom we have passed Floating at ease while nations have effaced Nations, and Death has gathered to his fold Long lines of mighty Kings look forth, my Soul! (Nor in this vision be thou slow to trust) The living Waters, less and less by guilt Stained and polluted, brighten as they roll, Till they have reached the eternal City built For the perfected Spirit of the just!