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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.

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
Distance
Sweet
Music
Made
Melodies
Sweetest
Melody

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Plain living and high thinking are no more.
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No motion has she now, no force she neither hears nor sees rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.
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Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art Close up these barren leaves Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
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Nature's old felicities.
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O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice?
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Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger - to let fall a tear And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.
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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
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He loves not well whose love is bold! I would not have thee come too nigh. The sun's gold would not seem pure gold Unless the sun were in the sky: To take him thence and chain him near Would make his beauty disappear. William Winter, Love's Queen. The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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Turning, for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold.
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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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Death is the quiet haven of us all.
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But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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To character and success, two things, contradictory as they may seem, must go together... humble dependence on God and manly reliance on self.
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By all means sometimes be alone salute thyself see what thy soul doth wear dare to look in thy chest and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
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I listened, motionless and still And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.
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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.
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The child is father of the man.
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Primroses, the Spring may love them Summer knows but little of them.
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