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One impulse from a vernal wood
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
Impulse
Vernal
Wood
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Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
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As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die!
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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In years that bring the philosophic mind.
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The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way.
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Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold The likeness of whate'er on land is seen.
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Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive But to be young was very heaven.
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The eye— it cannot choose but see we cannot bid the ear be still our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will.
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For nature then to me was all in all.
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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.
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There is creation in the eye.
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Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
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With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars.
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Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
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Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger - to let fall a tear And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.
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The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
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Yon foaming flood seems motionless as iceIts dizzy turbulence eludes the eye,Frozen by distance.
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But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave.
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