William Wordsworth Quotes
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The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink I heard a voice it said Drink, pretty creature, drink'
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We have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, And overspread the future years with hope.
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And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
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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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When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.
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Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk; and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.
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Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.
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The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
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Death is the quiet haven of us all.
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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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The wealthiest man among us is the best
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I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride; Of him who walked in glory and in joy, Following his plough, along the mountain-side. By our own spirits we are deified; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness, But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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Nature's old felicities.
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Whether we be young or old,Our destiny, our being's heart and home,Is with infinitude, and only there;With hope it is, hope that can never die,Effort and expectation, and desire,And something evermore about to be.
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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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Rest and be thankful.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose.
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We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud, And magnify thy name Almighty God! But man is thy most awful instrument, In working out a pure intent.