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Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.

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
Warm
Fear
Keep
Men
Love
Huddle
Cloak
Cloaks

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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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The first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
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The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.
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Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.
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Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride.
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Open-mindedness is the harvest of a quiet eye.
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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.
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