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. – William Wordsworth
Father! — to God himself we cannot give a holier name. – William Wordsworth

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. – William Wordsworth
Father! — to God himself we cannot give a holier name. – William Wordsworth
Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm. – William Wordsworth
Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness. – William Wordsworth