William Wordsworth Quotes
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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.
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But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.
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I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
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I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul listened intensely; for from within were heard Murmurings whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea. Even such a shell the universe itself Is to the ear of faith; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things, Of ebb and flow, and ever enduring power, And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless Agitation.
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The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom's heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoe'er the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.
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And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
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Faith is a passionate intuition.
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Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.
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Love betters what is best.
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Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.
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Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
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She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love and thought and joy.
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The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
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Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.
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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
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With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Sweet Daisy! oft I talk to thee For thou art worthy, Thou unassuming commonplace Of Nature, with that homely face, And yet with something of a grace Which love makes for thee!
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But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants; and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
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For oft, when on my couch I lie in vacant or in pensive mood they flash upon that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude
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Chains tie us down by land and sea; And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.