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And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
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
Tasks
Gains
Difficult
Keep
Soul
Heights
Competent
Height
Gain
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Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.
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When men change swords for ledgers, and desert The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed I had, my Country--am I to be blamed?
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Poetry is most just to its divine origin, when it administers the comforts and breathes the thoughts of religion.
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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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While all the future, for thy purer soul, With sober certainties of love is blest.
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Books are the best type of the influence of the past.
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Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises.
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The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves And thus for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives.
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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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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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Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?
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Stop thinking for once in your life!
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Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart.
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Plain living and high thinking are no more. The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.
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Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger - to let fall a tear And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.
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Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!
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Spires whose silent finger points to heaven.
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Write to me frequently & the longest letters possible never mind whether you have facts or no to communicate fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, one of a mighty multitude whose way and motion is a harmony and dance magnificent.
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