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Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed,-miserable train!- Turns his necessity to glorious gain.

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
Fear
Glorious
Gain
Miserable
Gains
Train
Company
Bloodshed
Turns
Doomed
Pain
Necessity

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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
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In truth the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is.
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A soul so pitiably forlorn, If such do on this earth abide, May season apathy with scorn, May turn indifference to pride And still be not unblest- compared With him who grovels, self-debarred From all that lies within the scope Of holy faith and christian hope Or, shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.
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Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.
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Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
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We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love And, even as these are well and wisely fixed, In dignity of being we ascend.
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