Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTHPoetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science.
More William Wordsworth Quotes
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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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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.
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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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Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
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A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard. Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
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Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.
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Prompt to move but firm to wait – knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.
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Faith is a passionate intuition.
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Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
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Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
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The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
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A tale in everything.
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A mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
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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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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
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In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
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But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
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Mathematics is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.
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One daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
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I 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.
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Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
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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.
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Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
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Chains tie us down by land and sea; And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH