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On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing is solitude
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
Human
Humans
Men
Musing
Life
Musings
Acceptance
Solitude
Reflection
Nature
More quotes by William Wordsworth
A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.
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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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One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
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Small service is true service, while it lasts.
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Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
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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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Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.
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Memories... images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
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No motion has she now, no force she neither hears nor sees rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.
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Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
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The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!
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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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Since thy return, through days and weeks Of hope that grew by stealth, How many wan and faded cheeks Have kindled into health! The Old, by thee revived, have said, 'Another year is ours' And wayworn Wanderers, poorly fed, Have smiled upon thy flowers.
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I listened, motionless and still And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.
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I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man.
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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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Great men have been among us hands that penn'd And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none
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Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.
William Wordsworth
Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, one of a mighty multitude whose way and motion is a harmony and dance magnificent.
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