William Wordsworth

O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live.

O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live.

And beauty, for confiding youth,
Those shocks of passion can prepare
That kill the bloom before its read more

And beauty, for confiding youth,
Those shocks of passion can prepare
That kill the bloom before its time,
And blanch, without the owner's crime,
The most resplendent hair.

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.

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.

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long read more

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.