Unrequited Love: William Wordsworth

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There is a change—and I am poor;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart’s door,
Whose only business was to flow;
And flow it did; not taking heed
Of its own bounty, or my need.

What happy moments did I count!
Blest was I then all bliss above!
Now, for that consecrated fount
Of murmuring, sparkling, living love,
What have I? shall I dare to tell?
A comfortless and hidden well.

A well of love—it may be deep—
I trust it is,—and never dry:
What matter? if the waters sleep
In silence and obscurity.
—Such change, and at the very door
Of my fond heart, hath made me poor.

William Wordsworth

A Complaint
The image is copyright: Wolna via Shutterstock
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About layanglicana

Author of books on Calcutta, Delhi and Dar es Salaam, I am now blogging as a lay person about the Church of England and the Anglican Communion. I am also blogging about the effects of World War One on the village of St Mary Bourne, Hampshire.
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3 Responses to Unrequited Love: William Wordsworth

  1. Minty says:

    Reblogged this on Mints And Wisdom and commented:
    Awww love this!

  2. socialbridge says:

    Thanks for this one which is new to me. I suppose, being Irish, I consider W.B. Yeats’ the poet of ‘unrequited love.’

  3. Pingback: Unrequited Love: William Wordsworth | Ratiocina...

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