William Wordsworth

And she hath smiles to earth unknown--
Smiles that with motion of their own
Do spread, and read more

And she hath smiles to earth unknown--
Smiles that with motion of their own
Do spread, and sink, and rise.

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.

Of vast circumference and gloom profound,
This solitary Tree! A living thing
Produced too slowly ever to read more

Of vast circumference and gloom profound,
This solitary Tree! A living thing
Produced too slowly ever to decay;
Of form and aspect too magnificent
To be destroyed.

What is pride? A whizzing rocket that would emulate a star.

What is pride? A whizzing rocket that would emulate a star.

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the read more

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.