Quote

A Primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him And it was something more.

William Wordsworth

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Brim
Yellow
River
Rivers
Rose
Flower
Something
Primrose

More quotes by William Wordsworth

Image
The stars of midnight shall be dear To her and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
William Wordsworth
Image
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
William Wordsworth
Image
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!
William Wordsworth
Image
The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way.
William Wordsworth
Image
Stop thinking for once in your life!
William Wordsworth
Image
Laying out grounds... may be considered as a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.... it is to assist Nature in moving the affections... the affections of those who have the deepest perception of the beauty of Nature.
William Wordsworth
Image
Neither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary intercourse of daily life, shall ever prevail against us.
William Wordsworth
Image
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch'd in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
William Wordsworth
Image
In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .
William Wordsworth
Image
Turning, for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold.
William Wordsworth
Image
We Poets in our youth begin in gladness But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
William Wordsworth
Image
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
William Wordsworth
Image
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
William Wordsworth
Image
Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains and of all that we behold from this green earth.
William Wordsworth
Image
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
William Wordsworth
Image
Primroses, the Spring may love them Summer knows but little of them.
William Wordsworth
Image
Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?
William Wordsworth
Image
Oft in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.
William Wordsworth
Image
I listened, motionless and still And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.
William Wordsworth
Image
Bright flower! whose home is everywhere Bold in maternal nature's care And all the long year through the heir Of joy or sorrow, Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other flower I see The forest through.
William Wordsworth