![]() Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, And while ihe young Iambs bound. Thou Child of Joy, Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy. And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death: The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd To warn, to comfort, and command And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of an angel light. Are beautiful and fair The sunshine is a glorious birth: But yet I know, whereer I go, That there hath passd away a glory from the earth. That there hath past away a glory from the earth. I saw her upon nearer view, A Spirit, yet a Woman too! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet 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. Words to Live By People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered Forgive them anyway. ‘Intimations of Immortality’ remains a powerful meditation on death, the loss of childhood innocence, and the way we tend to get. William Wordsworth The child is father of the man. William Wordsworth The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly. William Wordsworth To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. bright Be now forever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower William Wordsworth. ![]() ![]() She Was A Phantom of Delight She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament: Her eyes as stars of twilight fair Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay. Philip Larkin once recalled hearing William Wordsworth’s poem ‘Ode: Intimations of Immortality’ recited on BBC radio, and having to pull over to the side of the road, as his eyes had filled with tears. William Wordsworth That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
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