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We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.

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
Freedom
Milton
Free
Morals
Faith
Shakespeare
Speak
Held
Death
Tongue
Must
Hold
Moral
Dies
Spake

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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead.
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Rest and be thankful.
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And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
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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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Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.
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Imagination, which in truth Is but another name for absolute power And clearest insight, amplitude of mind, And reason, in her most exalted mood.
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A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
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Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again.
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A mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
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Laying out grounds... may be considered as a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.... it is to assist Nature in moving the affections... the affections of those who have the deepest perception of the beauty of Nature.
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Two voices are there one is of the sea, One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.
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When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.
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But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive like a wildflower when these favour, and when they do not, it is in vain to look for it.
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Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.
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I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
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