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She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.

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
Touch
Nature
Feel
Feels
Thing
Years
Earthly
Seemed

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My apprehension comes in crowds, I dread the rustling of the grass, The very shadows of the clouds, Have power to shake me as they pass, I question things and do not find, one that will answer to my mind, And all the world appears unkind.
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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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Memories... images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
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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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The vision and the faculty divine Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse.
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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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All that we behold is full of blessings.
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Books are the best type of the influence of the past.
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light
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Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises.
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The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
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The very flowers are sacred to the poor.
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While all the future, for thy purer soul, With sober certainties of love is blest.
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Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
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In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
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Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow!
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I'll teach my boy the sweetest things I'll teach him how the owlet sings.
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And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
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