At daybreak a wind rises up from the sea. It gracefully takes up the duty of the messenger of dawn. On this mission, it starts its journey towards the land. The sea is still in its slumber of mist. So the wind first tells the veil of mists to make room for it so that it can freely move on. It then sees the ships anchored and calls the mariners to set sail as the night is over. It blows over the lands and calls all to arise and awake. It calls the forests to rustle in the wind and unfurl their branches and leaves fully and freely. It tenderly touches the folded wings of the wood bird and inspires it to get up and start singing merrily. While blowing over the farm, the wind prompts the house cock to blow its clarion and announce the daybreak. The wind visits the fields of corn and whispers to them to bow down and salute the coming morning. It then urges the church bell to ring and proclaim the sunrise. Finally as the wind blows over the graveyard, it heaves a sigh of grief for the dead l...

The poem "Meeting at Night" describes the journey of a lover to meet his beloved. The lover sets out in a boat at sea at night. The sea is grey and the land is long and black. The moon in the sky is yellow, half, large and low. The boat startles the sleepy little waves awake and leap in fiery ringlets. The boat reaches the bay on the other side and stops in the slushy sand. The lover then walks a mile along the sea-scented beach and across three fields until he approaches the cottage of his beloved. He gives a tap on the window pane to let his beloved know of his presence and at once with a sudden sharp scratch a match is lit inside with a blue spurt. Then a whisper of the beloved that comes out of her joys and fears, is heard. The voice is less loud than the beatings of the two hearts caused by the deep excitement of their union.

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, Sept 3, 1802 William Wordsworth Summary While crossing over the Westminster Bridge in an early morning the poet discovers the majestic beauty of the city of London. It seems to him to be the most beautiful scene of the planet. He declares that you’d have to be someone with no spiritual sense and no taste for beauty to pass over the bridge without stopping to marvel the sight that is so touching in its majesty. The city is wearing the beauty of the morning like a garment. It is so early in the morning that everything around is very quiet and bare. Towers, domes, theatres, temples and ships that form the vast open landscape visible from the bridge, stand before him in all their grandeur in the soft morning light. There is no fog in the air to obscure the view. The valley, rock and hill shine brightly. The river is flowing undisturbed. The poet expresses his gratitude to god for his benign gift. The city is still blissfully asleep and soon it ...