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Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!
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
Second
Wonder
Stars
Silvery
Light
Twinkling
Look
Elude
Looks
Mark
Time
None
Sight
More quotes by William Wordsworth
The thought of death sits easy on the man Who has been born and dies among the mountains.
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A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident tomorrows.
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Books are the best type of the influence of the past.
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Me this uncharted freedom tires I feel the weight of chance desires, My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose that ever is the same.
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Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
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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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A genial hearth, a hospitable board, and a refined rusticity.
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In years that bring the philosophic mind.
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Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
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Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you 'll grow double! Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble?
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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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The light that never was, on sea or land The consecration, and the Poet's dream.
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One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
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He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.
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O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!
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For all things are less dreadful than they seem.
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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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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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The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves And thus for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives.
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But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave.
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