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Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all

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
Fields
Heaven
Happiness
Place
Secreted
Find
Subterranean
World
Utopia
Island
Islands

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Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way!
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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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The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.
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A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
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She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
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By all means sometimes be alone salute thyself see what thy soul doth wear dare to look in thy chest and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
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All men feel a habitual gratitude, and something of an honorable bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them.
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Turning, for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold.
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For by superior energies more strict affiance in each other faith more firm in their unhallowed principles, the bad have fairly earned a victory over the weak, the vacillating, inconsistent good.
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I'm not talking about a show me other walls of this thing button, I mean a stumble button for wallbase.
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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To be young was very heaven!
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I'll teach my boy the sweetest things I'll teach him how the owlet sings.
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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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