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Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
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
Betray
Shape
Shapes
Neither
Danger
Happiness
Dismay
Thought
Betrayal
Tender
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The childhood of today is the manhood of tomorrow
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We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
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Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.
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The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves And thus for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives.
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy.
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The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
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I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
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Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.
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Laying out grounds may be considered a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.
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He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.
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That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
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How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!
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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 So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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the Mind of Man-- My haunt, and the main region of my song.
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But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
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The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!
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While all the future, for thy purer soul, With sober certainties of love is blest.
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Great men have been among us hands that penn'd And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none
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And I am happy when I sing.
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His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.
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