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A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.
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
Causes
Combined
Torpor
Almost
Multitudes
Discriminating
State
Savages
Modernism
Acting
Reduce
Exertion
Times
Unknown
Voluntary
Force
Powers
Blunt
States
Former
Multitude
Mind
Stupid
Savage
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Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
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The sunshine is a glorious birth But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
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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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I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea Nor England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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A youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of heaven.
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This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
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We live by admiration, hope and love.
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Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
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A great poet ought to a certain degree to rectify men's feelings... to render their feelings more sane, pure and permanent, in short, more consonant to Nature.
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Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom's heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoe'er the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.
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A deep distress has humanised my soul.
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Nor will I then thy modest grace forget, Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring, And pensive monitor of fleeting years!
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