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Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.
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
Fate
Flower
Song
Look
Droop
Looks
Daybreak
Even
Flowers
Blow
Summer
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Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams.
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Wisdom and Spirit of the universe! Thou soul, that art the eternity of thought, And giv'st to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion.
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A great poet ought to a certain degree to rectify men's feelings... to render their feelings more sane, pure and permanent, in short, more consonant to Nature.
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Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind--But how could I forget thee?
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That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.
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Far from the world I walk, and from all care.
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A power is passing from the earth.
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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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But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for humankind, Is happy as a lover.
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Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.
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Action is transitory, a step, a blow, The motion of a muscle, this way or that, 'Tis done--And in the after-vacancy, We wonder at ourselves, like men betrayed.
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Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
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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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With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars.
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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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We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
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Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!- The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.
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Earth has not anything to show more fair.
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O dearer far than light and life are dear.
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That to this mountain-daisy's self were known The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown On the smooth surface of this naked stone!
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