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And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.

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
Worthy
Seem
Seems
Must
Love

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Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.
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Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!
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The child shall become father to the man.
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Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet.
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This solitary Tree! a living thing Produced too slowly ever to decay Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed.
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Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things: We murder to dissect.
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For all things are less dreadful than they seem.
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Then blame not those who, by the mightiest lever Known to the moral world, Imagination.
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Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
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The budding rose above the rose full blown.
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His high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright.
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We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud, And magnify thy name Almighty God! But man is thy most awful instrument, In working out a pure intent.
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Milton, thou should'st be living at this hour.
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The stars of midnight shall be dear To her and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
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Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
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A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
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How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!
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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
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As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed An emblem yields to friends and enemies How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.
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