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Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.
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
Daddy
Dad
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Father
Cannot
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Holier
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Fatherhood
More quotes by William Wordsworth
There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon.
William Wordsworth
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
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
For by superior energies more strict affiance in each other faith more firm in their unhallowed principles, the bad have fairly earned a victory over the weak, the vacillating, inconsistent good.
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Open-mindedness is the harvest of a quiet eye.
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We Poets in our youth begin in gladness But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
William Wordsworth
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind--But how could I forget thee?
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth
For oft, when on my couch I lie in vacant or in pensive mood they flash upon that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude
William Wordsworth
Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.
William Wordsworth
Like an army defeated the snow hath retreated.
William Wordsworth
In ourselves our safety must be sought. By our own right hand it must be wrought.
William Wordsworth
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
William Wordsworth
And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
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poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge
William Wordsworth
Free as a bird to settle where I will.
William Wordsworth
I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea Nor England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.
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
His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.
William Wordsworth
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
William Wordsworth
