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Plain living and high thinking are no more.

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
High
Living
Thinking
Life
Idolatry
Avarice
Plain

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Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
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And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
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One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
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A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.
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Since thy return, through days and weeks Of hope that grew by stealth, How many wan and faded cheeks Have kindled into health! The Old, by thee revived, have said, 'Another year is ours' And wayworn Wanderers, poorly fed, Have smiled upon thy flowers.
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The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way!
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Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet
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Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
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Of all that is most beauteous, imaged there In happier beauty more pellucid streams, An ampler ether, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams.
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The child shall become father to the man.
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If thou art beautiful, and youth and thought endue thee with all truth-be strong--be worthy of the grace of God.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar.
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Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets.
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Write to me frequently & the longest letters possible never mind whether you have facts or no to communicate fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
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And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.
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Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.
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Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither.
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He loves not well whose love is bold! I would not have thee come too nigh. The sun's gold would not seem pure gold Unless the sun were in the sky: To take him thence and chain him near Would make his beauty disappear. William Winter, Love's Queen. The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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