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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
Living
Earth
Great
Life
Nobility
Noble
Dead
Alone
Society

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Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.
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She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
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Stop thinking for once in your life!
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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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Laying out grounds may be considered a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar.
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One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.
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But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?
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Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will Dear God! the very houses seem asleep And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.
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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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Milton, thou should'st be living at this hour.
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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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Where the statue stood Of Newton, with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone.
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For mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
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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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the Mind of Man-- My haunt, and the main region of my song.
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