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And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.

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
Conflict
Law
Made
Foresaw
Calmness
Heat
Sees
Keeps

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Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry and these we adore Plain living and high thinking are no more.
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If thou art beautiful, and youth and thought endue thee with all truth-be strong--be worthy of the grace of God.
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Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.
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The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
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Action is transitory, a step, a blow, The motion of a muscle, this way or that, 'Tis done--And in the after-vacancy, We wonder at ourselves, like men betrayed.
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Bright flower! whose home is everywhere Bold in maternal nature's care And all the long year through the heir Of joy or sorrow, Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other flower I see The forest through.
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But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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A tale in everything.
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Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will Dear God! the very houses seem asleep And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet.
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The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!
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He loves not well whose love is bold! I would not have thee come too nigh. The sun's gold would not seem pure gold Unless the sun were in the sky: To take him thence and chain him near Would make his beauty disappear. William Winter, Love's Queen. The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose.
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But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
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In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, And on the vacant air.
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The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
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In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs-in spite of things silently gone out of mind, and things violently destroyed, the Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth, and over all time.
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And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
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One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.
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