Quotes By Author: William Wordsworth
“Surprised by joy- impatient as the WindI turned to share the transport– Oh! with whomBut thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,That spot which no vicissitude can find?Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind–But how could I forget thee? Through what power,Even for the least division of an hour,Have I been so beguiled as to be blindTo my most grievous loss? — That thought’s returnWas the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;That neither present time, nor years unbornCould to my sight that heavenly face restore.”
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“Sweet is the lore which nature brings;Our meddling intellectMisshapes the beauteous forms of things;—We murder to dissect.”
“She Dwelt Among the Untrodden WaysShe dwelt among the untrodden waysBeside the springs of Dove,A Maid whom there were none to praiseAnd very few to love:A violet by a mossy stoneHalf hidden from the eye!—Fair as a star, when only oneIs shining in the sky.She lived unknown, and few could knowWhen Lucy ceased to be;But she is in her grave, and, oh,The difference to me!”
“The eye–it cannot choose but see;We cannot bid the ear be still;Our bodies feel, where’er they be,Against or with our will.”
“For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.”
“Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.”
“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.”
“I Wandered Lonely as a CloudI wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed–and gazed–but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.”
“Trailing clouds of glory do we come, from God, who is our home …”
“Trailing clouds of Glory do we come, from God, who is our home…”