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That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
William Wordsworth
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William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
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Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Littles
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Nameless
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Charity
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Little
Kindness
Philanthropy
Matter
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Kind
Marriage
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Men
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Life
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Eulogy
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There is creation in the eye.
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Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.
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The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way.
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For mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
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He who feels contempt for any living thing hath faculties that he hath never used, and thought with him is in its infancy.
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What are fears but voices airy? Whispering harm where harm is not. And deluding the unwary Till the fatal bolt is shot!
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What know we of the Blest above but that they sing, and that they love?
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Knowing that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her 'tis her privilege, through all the years of this our life, to lead from joy to joy.
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The education of circumstances is superior to that of tuition.
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One solace yet remains for us who came Into this world in days when story lacked Severe research, that in our hearts we know How, for exciting youth's heroic flame, Assent is power, belief the soul of fact.
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The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
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Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect
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Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room And hermits are contented with their cells.
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His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.
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The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!
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What is good for a bootless bene? With these dark words begins my tale And their meaning is, Whence can comfort spring When prayer is of no avail?
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With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars.
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Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
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'Tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes!
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