Quote

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.

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
Take
Unless
Disappear
William
Make
Pure
Winter
Despised
Would
Seem
Thee
Chain
Love
Beauty
Sky
Bold
Life
Seems
Loves
Queen
Pang
Wells
Sun
Queens
Thence
Come
Gold
Chains
Unconquerable
Well
Whose
Near
Nigh

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Free as a bird to settle where I will.
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And he is oft the wisest manWho is not wise at all.
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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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Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.
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Yet tears to human suffering are due And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.
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It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
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Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room And hermits are contented with their cells.
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As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed An emblem yields to friends and enemies How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.
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We Poets in our youth begin in gladness But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
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To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.
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We murder to dissect.
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And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
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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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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
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I'm not talking about a show me other walls of this thing button, I mean a stumble button for wallbase.
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Plain living and high thinking are no more.
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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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Stern daughter of the voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring and reprove.
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