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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.

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
Setting
Incarnation
Star
Afterlife
Birth
Reincarnation
Sleep
Forgetting
Stars
Rises
Cometh
Forget
Hath
Eulogy
Soul
Elsewhere
Afar
Life
Settings
Forgetfulness

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But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?
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Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry and these we adore Plain living and high thinking are no more.
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The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled And Shakespeare at his side,-a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world!
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Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
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The budding rose above the rose full blown.
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One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.
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Choice word and measured phrase above the reach Of ordinary men.
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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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Behold the Child among his new-born blisses A six years' Darling of a pigmy size! See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies, Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, With light upon him from his father's eyes! See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, Some fragment from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learned art.
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A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
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Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished.
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Faith is a passionate intuition.
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For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone.
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How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!
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