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May books and nature be their early joy!

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
Joy
Books
Nature
May
Book
Early

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As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed An emblem yields to friends and enemies How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.
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Spires whose silent finger points to heaven.
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Books are the best type of the influence of the past.
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Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great is passed away.
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Far from the world I walk, and from all care.
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That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.
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A genial hearth, a hospitable board, and a refined rusticity.
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Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
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But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for humankind, Is happy as a lover.
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One impulse from a vernal wood
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A tale in everything.
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In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
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A lawyer art thou? Draw not nigh! Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face.
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If thou art beautiful, and youth and thought endue thee with all truth-be strong--be worthy of the grace of God.
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For nature then to me was all in all.
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The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth's bitter leaven Effaced forever.
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The child is the father of man.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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