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Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep/ Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind.
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
Best
Blindness
Heritage
Philosopher
Thou
Blind
Among
Eye
Keep
Dost
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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
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Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
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The sunshine is a glorious birth But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
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Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man?
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Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!
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To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.
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In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.
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A tale in everything.
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?
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Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed,-render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod!
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Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
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We have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, And overspread the future years with hope.
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How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
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