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The poetical works of William Wordsworth

... In six volumes ... A new edition

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 I. 
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 III. 
 IV. 
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 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
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 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
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 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
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 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
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 XXVII. 
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 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
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 XXXIV. 
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 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
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 XLIII. 
 XLIV. 
XLIV. TROUBLES OF CHARLES THE FIRST.
 XLV. 
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XLIV. TROUBLES OF CHARLES THE FIRST.

Even such the contrast that, where'er we move,
To the mind's eye Religion doth present;
Now with her own deep quietness content;
Then, like the mountain, thundering from above
Against the ancient pine-trees of the grove
And the Land's humblest comforts. Now her mood
Recals the transformation of the flood,
Whose rage the gentle skies in vain reprove,
Earth cannot check. O terrible excess
Of headstrong will! Can this be Piety?
No—some fierce Maniac hath usurped her name;
And scourges England struggling to be free:
Her peace destroyed! her hopes a wilderness!
Her blessings cursed—her glory turned to shame!