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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.

William Wordsworth

And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Death Eyes Life Myself See Travel
The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Ocean One Liner
But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Glory God Heaven Home Ourselves
O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Joy Live Nature Ourselves Remember
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.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Ourselves Power Waste World
Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Heart Herself Love Nature
Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Best Growth Myself Old Relationship
My heart leaps up when I behold
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Heart Myself
Let Nature be your teacher.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Nature Teacher Yourself
The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet’s dream.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Dream Light Poet Sea
Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Gift Nature
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch’d in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Dance End Shine Stars
As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Grief Happiness Ourselves
Memories -images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Death Destroy Memories
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Forget Forgetfulness Glory Naked Ourselves
But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Divine Grace Nature

The memory of the just survives in Heaven.

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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.

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