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In years that bring the philosophic mind.

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
Bring
Mind
Years
Philosophic

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Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.
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The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
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It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
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We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud, And magnify thy name Almighty God! But man is thy most awful instrument, In working out a pure intent.
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A deep distress has humanised my soul.
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To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.
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The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
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These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.
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She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.
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Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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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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Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger - to let fall a tear And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.
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And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
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He who feels contempt for any living thing hath faculties that he hath never used, and thought with him is in its infancy.
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Great men have been among us hands that penn'd And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none
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Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.
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She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
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His high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright.
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For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.
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