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That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.
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
Hair
Without
Resplendent
Time
Confiding
Bloom
Owner
Owners
Kill
Crime
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But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.
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A lawyer art thou? Draw not nigh! Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face.
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We Poets in our youth begin in gladness But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
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A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light
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For all things are less dreadful than they seem.
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A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
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If the time should ever come when what is now called Science, thus famliarised to men, shall be ready to put on, as it were, a form of flesh and blood, the Poet will lend his divine spirit to the aid the transfiguration, and will welcome the Being thus produced, as a dear and genuine inmate of the household of man.
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Chains tie us down by land and sea And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.
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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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The world is too much with us late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
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