William Wordsworth Quotes
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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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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Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, And at my casement sing, Though it should prove a farewell lay And this our parting spring. * * * * * Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Come, and my requiem sing, Nor fail to be the harbinger Of everlasting spring.
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By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
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The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
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The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
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Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
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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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Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed,-render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod!
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Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none; / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!
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I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.
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Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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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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The budding rose above the rose full blown.
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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 first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
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Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.
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I'm not talking about a "show me other walls of this thing" button, I mean a "stumble" button for wallbase.
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Everything is tedious when one does not read with the feeling of the Author.
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These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.
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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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Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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Stern Winter loves a dirge – like sound.