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Poetry is most just to its divine origin, when it administers the comforts and breathes the thoughts of religion.
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
Comforts
Origin
Breathe
Comfort
Poetry
Thoughts
Divine
Administers
Religion
Breathes
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
...one interior life in which all beings live with God, themselves are God, existing in the mighty whole, indistinguishable as the cloudless east is from the cloudless west, when all the hemisphere is one cerulean blue.
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The childhood of today is the manhood of tomorrow
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The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
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On a fair prospect some have looked, And felt, as I have heard them say, As if the moving time had been A thing as steadfast as the scene On which they gazed themselves away.
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And what if thou, sweet May, hast known Mishap by worm and blight If expectations newly blown Have perished in thy sight If loves and joys, while up they sprung, Were caught as in a snare Such is the lot of all the young, However bright and fair.
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With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Sweet Daisy! oft I talk to thee For thou art worthy, Thou unassuming commonplace Of Nature, with that homely face, And yet with something of a grace Which love makes for thee!
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But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant
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Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.
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Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
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Rest and be thankful.
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May books and nature be their early joy!
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The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.
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Stop thinking for once in your life!
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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
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Miss not the occasion by the forelock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.
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A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
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