William Wordsworth Quotes
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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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A Briton even in love should be A subject, not a slave!
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Nature's old felicities.
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Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art; Close up these barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.
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And oft I thought (my fancy was-so strong) That I, at last, a resting-place had found: 'Here: will I dwell,' said I,' my whole life long, Roaming the illimitable waters round; Here will I live, of all but heaven disowned. And end my days upon the peaceful flood - To break my dream the vessel reached its bound; And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
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The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.
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Death is the quiet haven of us all.
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The wealthiest man among us is the best
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Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?
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Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
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One solace yet remains for us who came Into this world in days when story lacked Severe research, that in our hearts we know How, for exciting youth's heroic flame, Assent is power, belief the soul of fact.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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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.
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Rest and be thankful.
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Like an army defeated The snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill; The Ploughboy is whooping — anon — anon! There's joy in the mountains: There's life in the fountains; Small clouds are sailing, Blue sky prevailing; The rain is over and gone.
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She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!