But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave. – William Wordsworth
Father! — to God himself we cannot give a holier name. – William Wordsworth
But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave. – William Wordsworth
Father! — to God himself we cannot give a holier name. – William Wordsworth
Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face. – William Wordsworth
That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind. – William Wordsworth