William Wordsworth Quotes
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Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?
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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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The child shall become father to the man.
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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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Rest and be thankful.
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Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.
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Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
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Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.
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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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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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Death is the quiet haven of us all.
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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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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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The wealthiest man among us is the best
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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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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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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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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 bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
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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.
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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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A brotherhood of venerable trees.