Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTHPleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
More William Wordsworth Quotes
-
-
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.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Rest and be thankful.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch’d in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
In ourselves our safety must be sought. By our own right hand it must be wrought.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer’s joy.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
And I am happy when I sing.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
There is creation in the eye.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
A mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet’s dream.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
All that we behold is full of blessings.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Memories -images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
There is a comfort in the strength of love; ‘Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
Love betters what is best.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH