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In truth the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is.

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
Truth
Doom
Unto
Prison

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Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
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Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
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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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Oft in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.
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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!
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar.
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Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room And hermits are contented with their cells.
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The very flowers are sacred to the poor.
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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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The stars of midnight shall be dear To her and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
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Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.
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Primroses, the Spring may love them Summer knows but little of them.
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But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.
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A Primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him And it was something more.
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O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice?
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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The good die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust, burn to the socket.
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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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We live by admiration, hope and love.
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