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The world is too much with us late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
William Wordsworth
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William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Late
Environment
Getting
Boon
Nature
Powers
Littles
Lays
Little
Spending
Much
Waste
World
Soon
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At length the man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day.
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Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees.
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Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
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Wisdom married to immortal verse.
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What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
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Far from the world I walk, and from all care.
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The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.
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Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.
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The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.
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We live by admiration, hope and love.
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There is a luxury in self-dispraise And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
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