Let neither evil tongues,
Rash judges, nor the sneers of
selfish men,
Nor greetings where no
kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of
daily life
Prevail against our spirit, or
disturb
Our cheerful faith that all
which we behold
Is full of blessing.
[1] William Wordsworth was born at Cockermouth, in the
Lake District of England, in 1770. His boyhood was full of adventure among the
hills, and he says of himself that he showed “a stiff, moody, and violent
temper.” He lost his mother when he was 8 and his father at age 13. With the
help of his uncles, he and his siblings were well educated and started in life.
In 1787 went to St. John’s College, Cambridge, where he graduated B.A. in
1791. William’s uncles wanted him to enter the Church, but to this he was
averse; indeed, his dislike for any regular employment offended his uncles. The
beginning of his friendship with Coleridge in 1795 comfirmed
in him his resolution to devote himself to poetry; and a legacy of £900 from a
friend allowed him to do it, at least temporarily.
In 1813 Wordsworth migrated to Rydal Mount, his home for the rest of his life; there a benefactor helped him be appointed Distributor of Stamps for Westmoreland, with a salary of £400. He had now come to his own, and was regarded by the great majority of the lovers of poetry as, notwithstanding certain limitations and flaws, a truly great and original poet. In 1843, he succeeded Southey as England’s Poet Laureate. His long, tranquil, and fruitful life ended in 1850. He lies buried in the churchyard of Grasmere. (Source: Poet Seers – poetseers.org)
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