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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
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Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Dad
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Father
Cannot
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Fatherhood
Daddy
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
William Wordsworth
One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
William Wordsworth
Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.
William Wordsworth
Chains tie us down by land and sea And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.
William Wordsworth
I, methought, while the sweet breath of heaven Was blowing on my body, felt within A correspondent breeze, that gently moved With quickening virtue, but is now become A tempest, a redundant energy, Vexing its own creation.
William Wordsworth
She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!
William Wordsworth
Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect
William Wordsworth
But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
William Wordsworth
Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth's bitter leaven Effaced forever.
William Wordsworth
Turning, for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold.
William Wordsworth
And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
William Wordsworth
My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began So is it now I am a man So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
William Wordsworth
The education of circumstances is superior to that of tuition.
William Wordsworth
Stop thinking for once in your life!
William Wordsworth
In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, And on the vacant air.
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
To be a Prodigal's favourite,-then, worse truth, A Miser's pensioner,-behold our lot!
William Wordsworth
Dreams, books, are each a world.
William Wordsworth
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing.
William Wordsworth
