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That mighty orb of song, The divine Milton.

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
Orbs
Milton
Mighty
Divinity
Divine
Song

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Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.
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Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters.
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No motion has she now, no force she neither hears nor sees rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.
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I've watched you now a full half-hour Self-poised upon that yellow flower And, little Butterfly! Indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! - not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!
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Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
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The sunshine is a glorious birth But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
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Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
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Nature's old felicities.
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The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.
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A tale in everything.
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Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound.
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Everything is tedious when one does not read with the feeling of the Author.
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A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea Nor England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.
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At length the man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day.
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Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness
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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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Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
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