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Chains tie us down by land and sea And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.
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
May
Thee
Mines
Sea
Mine
Comfort
Wishes
Land
Ties
Wish
Chains
Left
Vain
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In truth the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is.
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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.
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Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream.
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For mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
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The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
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Behold the Child among his new-born blisses A six years' Darling of a pigmy size! See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies, Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, With light upon him from his father's eyes! See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, Some fragment from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learned art.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
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And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
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Memories... images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither.
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Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
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The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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