Maxioms by William Wordsworth
Thoughts shut up want air,
And spoil like bales unopen'd to the sun.
Thoughts shut up want air,
And spoil like bales unopen'd to the sun.
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.
How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live.
O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live.
A cheerful life is what the Muses love,
A soaring spirit is their prime delight.
A cheerful life is what the Muses love,
A soaring spirit is their prime delight.
