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Great God! I'd rather be a Pagan.

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
Pagan
Rather
Great

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What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
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In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .
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My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began So is it now I am a man.
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We murder to dissect.
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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I look for ghosts but none will force Their way to me. 'Tis falsely said That there was ever intercourse Between the living and the dead.
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A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free.
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...one interior life in which all beings live with God, themselves are God, existing in the mighty whole, indistinguishable as the cloudless east is from the cloudless west, when all the hemisphere is one cerulean blue.
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What know we of the Blest above but that they sing, and that they love?
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Choice word and measured phrase above the reach Of ordinary men.
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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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Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?
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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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One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.
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Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!- The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.
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Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.
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Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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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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A lawyer art thou? Draw not nigh! Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face.
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