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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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
Birth
Fairest
Gives
Abode
Dark
Dwells
Future
Prudence
Eye
Breeze
Giving
Flowers
Abodes
Think
Gods
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Flower
Softest
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A tale in everything.
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A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
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When men change swords for ledgers, and desert The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed I had, my Country--am I to be blamed?
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Neither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary intercourse of daily life, shall ever prevail against us.
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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
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Wisdom sits with children round her knees.
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
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A lawyer art thou? Draw not nigh! Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face.
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Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!
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Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
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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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I, methought, while the sweet breath of heaven Was blowing on my body, felt within A correspondent breeze, that gently moved With quickening virtue, but is now become A tempest, a redundant energy, Vexing its own creation.
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As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed An emblem yields to friends and enemies How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.
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Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.
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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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O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.
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For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.
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Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present, to live better in the future.
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Open-mindedness is the harvest of a quiet eye.
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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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