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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.

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
Slowly
Destroyed
Aspect
Tree
Living
Decay
Form
Magnificent
Ever
Solitary
Thing
Produced

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Brothers all In honour, as in one community, Scholars and gentlemen.
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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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What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
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The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
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Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.
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How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
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A tale in everything.
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She gave me eyes, she gave me ears And humble cares, and delicate fears A heart, the fountain of sweet tears And love and thought and joy.
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Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.
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With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Sweet Daisy! oft I talk to thee For thou art worthy, Thou unassuming commonplace Of Nature, with that homely face, And yet with something of a grace Which love makes for thee!
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Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
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Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art Close up these barren leaves Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
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...one interior life in which all beings live with God, themselves are God, existing in the mighty whole, indistinguishable as the cloudless east is from the cloudless west, when all the hemisphere is one cerulean blue.
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I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive like a wildflower when these favour, and when they do not, it is in vain to look for it.
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The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way!
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Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all
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