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Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.
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
Lying
Prison
Upon
Childhood
House
Begin
Time
Lies
Close
Boys
Shades
Growing
Infancy
Heaven
Shade
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Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
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The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.
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We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
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Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains and of all that we behold from this green earth.
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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Free as a bird to settle where I will.
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Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.
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my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion.
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A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
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Faith is a passionate intuition.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee! . . . . . . Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: So didst thou travel on life's common way In cheerful godliness.
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Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays: A face o'er which a thousand shadows go!
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