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And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.
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
Soul
Consciousness
Streams
Memories
Passed
Shall
Precious
Dies
Images
Overflowed
Upon
Destroyed
Deposited
Left
Memory
Remained
Away
Silent
Stream
Cannot
Thoughts
Shore
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What is good for a bootless bene? With these dark words begins my tale And their meaning is, Whence can comfort spring When prayer is of no avail?
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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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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
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She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
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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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The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
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Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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Meek Walton's heavenly memory.
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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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In truth the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is.
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Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.
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Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.
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Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.
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That mighty orb of song, The divine Milton.
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