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A mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
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
Alone
Forever
Voyaging
Thought
Prisms
Mind
Prelude
Seas
Sculpture
Sea
Strange
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will Dear God! the very houses seem asleep And all that mighty heart is lying still!
William Wordsworth
Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.
William Wordsworth
Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
William Wordsworth
A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
William Wordsworth
I should dread to disfigure the beautiful ideal of the memories of illustrious persons with incongruous features, and to sully the imaginative purity of classical works with gross and trivial recollections.
William Wordsworth
Primroses, the Spring may love them Summer knows but little of them.
William Wordsworth
Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished.
William Wordsworth
The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
William Wordsworth
He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
William Wordsworth
The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
William Wordsworth
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
William Wordsworth
Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets.
William Wordsworth
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
William Wordsworth
One impulse from a vernal wood
William Wordsworth
A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident tomorrows.
William Wordsworth
The very flowers are sacred to the poor.
William Wordsworth
The unconquerable pang of despised love.
William Wordsworth
Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
William Wordsworth
Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth: And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle, Has vanished from his lonely hearth.
William Wordsworth
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
William Wordsworth
