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Brothers all In honour, as in one community, Scholars and gentlemen.

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
Gentlemen
Scholar
Honour
Brothers
Gentleman
Brother
Community
Scholars

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Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch'd in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
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Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.
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A power is passing from the earth.
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Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth's bitter leaven Effaced forever.
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The child is father of the man.
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
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True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.
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As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die!
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That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.
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As generations come and go, Their arts, their customs, ebb and flow Fate, fortune, sweep strong powers away, And feeble, of themselves, decay.
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Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!
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Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.
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And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
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Serene will be our days, and bright and happy will our nature be, when love is an unerring light, and joy its own security.
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Plain living and high thinking are no more. The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.
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A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
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Truth takes no account of centuries.
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Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
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A simple child. That lightly draws its breath. And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death?
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One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
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