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 WORDSWORTHContinuous 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.
More William Wordsworth Quotes
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Wisdom married to immortal verse.
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A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
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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.
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The world is too much with us; late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
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Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.
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One daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!
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But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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Life is divided into three terms – that which was, which is, and which will be.
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Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
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A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer’s joy.
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The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.
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Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from.
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Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.
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Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge – it is as immortal as the heart of man.
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There is a comfort in the strength of love; ‘Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.
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Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
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Memories -images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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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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My heart leaps up when I behold
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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
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May books and nature be their early joy!
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And we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH