Quotes from William Wordsworth

And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.

Plain living and high thinking are no more.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.

Far from the world I walk, and from all care.

She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!

There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.

Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee! . . . . . . Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: So didst thou travel on life's common way In cheerful godliness.

That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.

Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.

Imagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality.

Let Nature be your teacher

Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.

O dearer far than light and life are dear.

There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead.

Stop thinking for once in your life!

Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?

What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.

All that we behold is full of blessings.

Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him; it was blessedness and love!

The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions.

Miss not the occasion; by the forelock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream.