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Milton, thou should'st be living at this hour.
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
Hours
Living
Milton
Thou
Hour
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive But to be young was very heaven.
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I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
William Wordsworth
Delivered from the galling yoke of time.
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Stern daughter of the voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring and reprove.
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Let Nature be your teacher
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in the mind of man, A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
William Wordsworth
Burn all the statutes and their shelves: They stir us up against our kind And worse, against ourselves.
William Wordsworth
Either still I find Some imperfection in the chosen theme, Or see of absolute accomplishment Much wanting, so much wanting, in myself, That I recoil and droop, and seek repose In listlessness from vain perplexity, Unprofitably travelling towards the grave.
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One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
William Wordsworth
For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone.
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Give all thou canst high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
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Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
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His high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright.
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Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
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Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
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At length the man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day.
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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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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.
William Wordsworth