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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.

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
Management
Childhood
Sweet
Days
Long
Childish
Twenty
Twenties

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The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
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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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Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
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Those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realised, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised
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His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.
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Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again.
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I've watched you now a full half-hour Self-poised upon that yellow flower And, little Butterfly! Indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! - not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!
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Wisdom married to immortal verse.
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Memories... images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
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The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!
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Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present, to live better in the future.
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Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.
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Then blame not those who, by the mightiest lever Known to the moral world, Imagination.
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By all means sometimes be alone salute thyself see what thy soul doth wear dare to look in thy chest and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
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