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William Wordsworth - A Night Thought
Work rating: Medium

Lo! where the Moon along the sky
Sails with her happy destiny;
Oft is she hid from mortal eye
Or dimly seen,
But when the clouds asunder fly
How bright her mien!

Far different we—a froward race,
Thousands though rich in Fortune`s grace
With cherished sullenness of pace
Their way pursue, 
Ingrates who wear a smileless face
The whole year through.

If kindred humours e`er would make
My spirit droop for drooping`s sake,
From Fancy following in thy wake,
Bright ship of heaven!
A counter impulse let me take
And be forgiven.
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