William Wordsworth

(1770-1850 / Cumberland / England)

Comments about William Wordsworth

  • we live in a society (4/25/2018 5:57:00 AM)

    we live in a society

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  • michael zuck (4/25/2018 5:54:00 AM)

    yo famalams, my brain be thinkin dis poemz be pgood lol! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! 1

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  • Skinners'' Academy (4/23/2018 9:45:00 AM)

    I hate all of thise 004389349854

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  • Manya jain (4/23/2018 3:49:00 AM)

    I want a poem on environment tody only

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  • Maneeza (4/21/2018 1:25:00 AM)

    Your poems are soooooooooooooo......

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  • Pamela Olsen (3/22/2018 10:43:00 PM)

    We come to Earth trailing clouds of glory.....

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  • ARPITA TIWARI (3/13/2018 3:52:00 AM)

    WORDSWORTH IS BEYOND COMPARISION, VERY INTELLIGIBLE AND CHARMING CHARACTER THROUGHOUT HIS POEMS

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  • Bharat (3/12/2018 11:29:00 AM)

    Nicely for learn

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  • Bharat (3/12/2018 11:28:00 AM)

    Nice a

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  • Pinke (2/19/2018 11:10:00 PM)

    Poem Hindi translation

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    8 person did not like.
Best Poem of William Wordsworth

The World Is Too Much With Us; Late And Soon

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune,
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me...

Read the full of The World Is Too Much With Us; Late And Soon

The Trosachs

THERE 's not a nook within this solemn Pass,
   But were an apt confessional for one
   Taught by his summer spent, his autumn gone,
That Life is but a tale of morning grass
Wither'd at eve. From scenes of art which chase
   That thought away, turn, and with watchful eyes
   Feed it 'mid Nature's old felicities,
Rocks, rivers, and smooth lakes more clear than glass
Untouch'd, unbreathed upon. Thrice happy quest,

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