black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!

William Wordsworth

One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Face Oneself Soul Word
From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Body Fear Guilty Oneself
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

Darkness Growth Mortal Music Spirit Togetherness
Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Light Nature Teacher
But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Glory God Heaven Home Ourselves
And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Death Eyes Life Myself See Travel
One daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Flower Oneself Worth
But He is risen, a later star of dawn.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Himself Rise Stars
May books and nature be their early joy!
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Book Joy Nature
Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Nature Philosophy Wisdom
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

Dance End Shine Stars
Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Habit Reflection Rule
To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Flower Lie Myself Tears
A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer’s joy.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Famous Joy Man Singer
My heart leaps up when I behold
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Heart Myself
The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet’s dream.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Dream Light Poet Sea

O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More William Wordsworth Quotes