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Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.

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
Affect
Fancy
Luxury
Familiar
Prodigal
Happiness
Prodigals
Fancies
Disrespect
Excess

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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
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But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant
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... and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
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Death is the quiet haven of us all.
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A deep distress has humanised my soul.
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Careless of books, yet having felt the power Of Nature, by the gentle agency Of natural objects, led me on to feel For passions that were not my own, and think (At random and imperfectly indeed) On man, the heart of man, and human life.
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Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
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Nor will I then thy modest grace forget, Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring, And pensive monitor of fleeting years!
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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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In ourselves our safety must be sought. By our own right hand it must be wrought.
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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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My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began So is it now I am a man.
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