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That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
William Wordsworth
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William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
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Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
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More quotes by William Wordsworth
Burn all the statutes and their shelves: They stir us up against our kind And worse, against ourselves.
William Wordsworth
Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
William Wordsworth
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
William Wordsworth
Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
William Wordsworth
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.
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Oft in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.
William Wordsworth
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!
William Wordsworth
But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?
William Wordsworth
I'm not talking about a show me other walls of this thing button, I mean a stumble button for wallbase.
William Wordsworth
The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves And thus for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives.
William Wordsworth
That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.
William Wordsworth
Like an army defeated The snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill The Ploughboy is whooping — anon — anon! There's joy in the mountains: There's life in the fountains Small clouds are sailing, Blue sky prevailing The rain is over and gone.
William Wordsworth
Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, And at my casement sing, Though it should prove a farewell lay And this our parting spring. * * * * * Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Come, and my requiem sing, Nor fail to be the harbinger Of everlasting spring.
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Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.
William Wordsworth
Turning, for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold.
William Wordsworth
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
William Wordsworth
There is a comfort in the strength of love 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.
William Wordsworth
But to a higher mark than song can reach, Rose this pure eloquence.
William Wordsworth
What is good for a bootless bene? With these dark words begins my tale And their meaning is, Whence can comfort spring When prayer is of no avail?
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Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
William Wordsworth