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One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.

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
Peep
Motherhood
Grave
Graves
Upon
Mother
Would

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Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
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Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him it was blessedness and love!
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My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began So is it now I am a man.
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Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
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Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains and of all that we behold from this green earth.
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Babylon, Learned and wise, hath perished utterly, Nor leaves her speech one word to aid the sigh That would lament her.
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A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
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The child shall become father to the man.
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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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Plain living and high thinking are no more. The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.
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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
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We murder to dissect.
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed,-miserable train!- Turns his necessity to glorious gain.
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Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.
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A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free.
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And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
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There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream.
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His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.
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Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness
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