William Wordsworth Quotes

21st May – a glorious day for beauty. I wish you could see how lovely our country is at this fine season.

That to this mountain-daisy’s self were known The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown On the smooth surface of this naked stone!

With what nice care equivalents are given, How just, how bountiful, the hand of Heaven.

Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom’s heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoever the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.

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.

Oh! if within me hope should e’er decline, The lamp of faith, lost Friend! too faintly burn; The may that heaven-revealing smile of thine, The bright assurance, visibly return: And let my spirit in that power divine Rejoice, as, through that power, it ceased to mourn.

No trace of pain or languor could abide That change – age on thy brow was smoothed – thy cold Wan cheek at once was privileged to unfold A loveliness to living youth denied.

Even so for me a vision sanctified The sway of death; long ere my eyes had seen Thy countenance – the still rapture of thy mien – When thou, dear Sister! wert become death’s bride.

But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise, O Nature! we are thine.

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!

Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?

Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith’s transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.

Still glides the stream, and shall for ever glide; The Form remains, the function never dies; While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish; – be it so!

For all the startled scaly tribes that slink Into his coverts, and each fearless link Of dancing insects forged upon his breast.

‘To every Form of being is assigned,’ Thus calmly spake the venerable Sage, ‘An active Principle: – howe’er removed From sense and observation, it subsists In all things, in all natures.’

Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.

Compassed round by pleasure, sighed For independent happiness; craving peace, The central feeling of all happiness, Not as a refuge from distress or pain, A breathing-time, vacation, or a truce, But for its absolute self.

This dull product of a scoffer’s pen.

He looked – Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth And ocean’s liquid mass, in gladness lay Beneath him: – Far and wide the clouds were touched, And in their silent faces he could read Unutterable love.