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By all means sometimes be alone salute thyself see what thy soul doth wear dare to look in thy chest and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
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
Knowledge
Doth
Means
Thyself
Soul
Chest
Look
Chests
Looks
Thou
Sometimes
Dare
Mean
Wear
Tumble
Alone
Salute
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And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
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What are fears but voices airy? Whispering harm where harm is not. And deluding the unwary Till the fatal bolt is shot!
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Dreams, books, are each a world.
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We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love And, even as these are well and wisely fixed, In dignity of being we ascend.
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Wisdom married to immortal verse.
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A deep distress has humanised my soul.
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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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The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains and of all that we behold from this green earth.
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That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.
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Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
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Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet.
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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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The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
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The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone
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To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
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We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
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