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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.

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
Whose
Light
Suns
Dwelling
Settings
Setting
Sun

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Poetry is most just to its divine origin, when it administers the comforts and breathes the thoughts of religion.
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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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A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
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Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.
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Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.
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A soul so pitiably forlorn, If such do on this earth abide, May season apathy with scorn, May turn indifference to pride And still be not unblest- compared With him who grovels, self-debarred From all that lies within the scope Of holy faith and christian hope Or, shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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Delivered from the galling yoke of time.
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I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
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Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead.
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How is it that you live, and what is it you do?
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The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
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Earth helped him with the cry of blood.
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And I am happy when I sing.
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The child is father of the man.
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The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
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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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Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
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Oh, be wise, Thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads to love.
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