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Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.

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
Wisdom
Books
Nature
Woodland
Music
Strife
Book
Dull
Come
Endless
Life
Sweet
Hear

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Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
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And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
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When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.
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Truths that wake To perish never
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For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone.
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We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
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My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
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The wealthiest man among us is the best
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Let Nature be your teacher
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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.
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Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow!
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Love betters what is best
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There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream.
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The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.
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The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
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Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
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O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.
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She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!
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Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.
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