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At length the man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day.
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
Fades
Length
Perceive
Dies
Common
Away
Light
Perceives
Men
Fade
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
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Two voices are there one is of the sea, One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
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One solace yet remains for us who came Into this world in days when story lacked Severe research, that in our hearts we know How, for exciting youth's heroic flame, Assent is power, belief the soul of fact.
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Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry and these we adore Plain living and high thinking are no more.
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It is the 1st mild day of March. Each minute sweeter than before... there is a blessing in the air.
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Serene will be our days, and bright and happy will our nature be, when love is an unerring light, and joy its own security.
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Nor will I then thy modest grace forget, Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring, And pensive monitor of fleeting years!
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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
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True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.
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The monumental pomp of age Was with this goodly personage A stature undepressed in size, Unbent, which rather seemed to rise In open victory o'er the weight Of seventy years, to loftier height.
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A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by One after one the sound of rain, and bees Murmuring the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky - I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie Sleepless.
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Wisdom and Spirit of the universe! Thou soul, that art the eternity of thought, And giv'st to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion.
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The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way.
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