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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
Luxury
Familiar
Prodigal
Happiness
Prodigals
Fancies
Disrespect
Excess
Affect
Fancy
More quotes by William Wordsworth
The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way.
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The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
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Give all thou canst high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
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The streams with softest sound are flowing, The grass you almost hear it growing, You hear it now, if e'er you can.
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My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
William Wordsworth
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.
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Meek Walton's heavenly memory.
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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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Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.
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Primroses, the Spring may love them Summer knows but little of them.
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There is creation in the eye.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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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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In ourselves our safety must be sought. By our own right hand it must be wrought.
William Wordsworth
Babylon, Learned and wise, hath perished utterly, Nor leaves her speech one word to aid the sigh That would lament her.
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Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, one of a mighty multitude whose way and motion is a harmony and dance magnificent.
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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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Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, And at my casement sing, Though it should prove a farewell lay And this our parting spring. * * * * * Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Come, and my requiem sing, Nor fail to be the harbinger Of everlasting spring.
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