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To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
William Wordsworth
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William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Thoughts
Deep
Lying
Meanest
Often
Blows
Give
Blow
Giving
Garden
Flower
Tears
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Yet tears to human suffering are due And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.
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Laying out grounds... may be considered as a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.... it is to assist Nature in moving the affections... the affections of those who have the deepest perception of the beauty of Nature.
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While all the future, for thy purer soul, With sober certainties of love is blest.
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For mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
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A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.
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There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon.
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Burn all the statutes and their shelves: They stir us up against our kind And worse, against ourselves.
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth
Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry and these we adore Plain living and high thinking are no more.
William Wordsworth
She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
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Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.
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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art Close up these barren leaves Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
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The wealthiest man among us is the best
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
William Wordsworth
Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!
William Wordsworth
The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.
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Meek Walton's heavenly memory.
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Write to me frequently & the longest letters possible never mind whether you have facts or no to communicate fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
