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The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.

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
Thousand
Times
Beautiful
Earth
Mind
Men
Dwells

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
William Wordsworth
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A great poet ought to a certain degree to rectify men's feelings... to render their feelings more sane, pure and permanent, in short, more consonant to Nature.
William Wordsworth
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Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed,-miserable train!- Turns his necessity to glorious gain.
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This solitary Tree! a living thing Produced too slowly ever to decay Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed.
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How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
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The child shall become father to the man.
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Like an army defeated the snow hath retreated.
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Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?
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Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
William Wordsworth
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In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
William Wordsworth
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True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.
William Wordsworth
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Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
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Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?
William Wordsworth
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Poetry is the outcome of emotions recollected in tranquility.
William Wordsworth
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Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather, In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard-seat! And birds and flowers once more to greet, My last year's friends together.
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Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.
William Wordsworth
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A Primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him And it was something more.
William Wordsworth
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.
William Wordsworth
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When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.
William Wordsworth
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Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
William Wordsworth