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In ourselves our safety must be sought. By our own right hand it must be wrought.
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
Hands
Right
Must
Wrought
Sought
Safety
Hand
More quotes by William Wordsworth
And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
William Wordsworth
Plain living and high thinking are no more. The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.
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The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing.
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One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
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Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.
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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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Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep/ Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind.
William Wordsworth
Now when the primrose makes a splendid show, And lilies face the March-winds in full blow, And humbler growths as moved with one desire Put on, to welcome spring, their best attire, Poor Robin is yet flowerless but how gay With his red stalks upon this sunny day!
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Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
William Wordsworth
In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.
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Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive But to be young was very heaven.
William Wordsworth
By all means sometimes be alone salute thyself see what thy soul doth wear dare to look in thy chest and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
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There is creation in the eye.
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Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.
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Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
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A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
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As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die!
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... and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
William Wordsworth
But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?
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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.
William Wordsworth
