William Wordsworth Quotes
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I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man.
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One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.
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This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
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But He is risen, a later star of dawn.
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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.
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The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
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Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man?
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But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
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To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
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A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
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The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose.
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I've watched you now a full half-hour; Self-poised upon that yellow flower And, little Butterfly! Indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! - not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!
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. . .this prayer I make, Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 't is her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings.
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"What is good for a bootless bene?" With these dark words begins my tale; And their meaning is, Whence can comfort spring When prayer is of no avail?
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These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.
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The streams with softest sound are flowing, The grass you almost hear it growing, You hear it now, if e'er you can.
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The very flowers are sacred to the poor.
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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
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Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!
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Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind--But how could I forget thee?
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
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I, methought, while the sweet breath of heaven Was blowing on my body, felt within A correspondent breeze, that gently moved With quickening virtue, but is now become A tempest, a redundant energy, Vexing its own creation.