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A simple child. That lightly draws its breath. And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death?
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
Feels
Lightly
Children
Limbs
Every
Breath
Life
Breaths
Draws
Child
Simple
Death
Limb
More quotes by William Wordsworth
How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
William Wordsworth
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!
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Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound.
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A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.
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Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.
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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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A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
William Wordsworth
I, methought, while the sweet breath of heaven Was blowing on my body, felt within A correspondent breeze, that gently moved With quickening virtue, but is now become A tempest, a redundant energy, Vexing its own creation.
William Wordsworth
Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science
William Wordsworth
And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.
William Wordsworth
All men feel a habitual gratitude, and something of an honorable bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them.
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Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
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Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises.
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Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.
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The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, An appetite a feeling and a love that had no need of a remoter charm by thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
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And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
William Wordsworth
My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
William Wordsworth
The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
William Wordsworth
[Mathematics] is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.
William Wordsworth
