Quote

The moving accident is not my trade To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.

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
Moving
Delight
Song
Hearts
Art
Summer
Freeze
Heart
Trade
Pipe
Thinking
Ready
Accident
Blood
Shade
Alone
Accidents
Simple
Arts

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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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But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
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Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.
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Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
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With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.
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And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
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And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet whence he blew Soul-animating strains,-alas! too few.
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Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.
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Poetry is the outcome of emotions recollected in tranquility.
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...one interior life in which all beings live with God, themselves are God, existing in the mighty whole, indistinguishable as the cloudless east is from the cloudless west, when all the hemisphere is one cerulean blue.
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And I am happy when I sing.
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