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Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.
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
War
Often
Mind
World
Noisy
Hears
Strongest
Minds
Least
More quotes by William Wordsworth
O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.
William Wordsworth
A genial hearth, a hospitable board, and a refined rusticity.
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She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
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The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.
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I'm not talking about a show me other walls of this thing button, I mean a stumble button for wallbase.
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Small service is true service, while it lasts.
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That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
William Wordsworth
Either still I find Some imperfection in the chosen theme, Or see of absolute accomplishment Much wanting, so much wanting, in myself, That I recoil and droop, and seek repose In listlessness from vain perplexity, Unprofitably travelling towards the grave.
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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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
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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The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
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She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.
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Wisdom sits with children round her knees.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
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Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.
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Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
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In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.
William Wordsworth
