Upon Westminster Bridge

[Under development: 1 June 2005]

William Wordsworth wrote this poem in 1802. I enjoy its awe and wonder. Despite my decades-long antipathy to London, I am now reminded of a city that has long been intensely vibrant (“Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie / Open unto the fields, and to the sky”) and of immense power (“And all that mighty heart is lying still!”). A bright sunrise over the city always, to me, promises a day to be lived.

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley rock or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! The very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

 

  p.g.h@btinternet.com