Lyrical Ballads, with other poems, by William Wordsworth

Song for the wandering Jew

Though the torrents from their fountains

Roar down many a craggy steep,

Yet they find among the mountains

Resting-places calm and deep.

Though almost with eagle pinion

O’er the rocks the Chamois roam.

Yet he has some small dominion

Which no doubt he calls his home.

If on windy days the Raven

Gambol like a dancing skiff,

Not the less he loves his haven

On the bosom of the cliff.

Though the Sea-horse in the ocean

Own no dear domestic cave;

Yet he slumbers without motion

On the calm and silent wave.

Day and night my toils redouble!

Never nearer to the goal,

Night and day, I feel the trouble,

Of the Wanderer in my soul.

Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 12:02