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There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead.

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
Society
Living
Earth
Great
Life
Nobility
Noble
Dead
Alone

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He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
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Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
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Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
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Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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The eye— it cannot choose but see we cannot bid the ear be still our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will.
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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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Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.
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Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither.
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
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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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A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
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