Quote

Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.

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
Moves
Theory
Either
Action
Thought
Salutary
Must
Precede
Nobler
Purposes

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Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
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Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
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Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind--But how could I forget thee?
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Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
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Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn
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The monumental pomp of age Was with this goodly personage A stature undepressed in size, Unbent, which rather seemed to rise In open victory o'er the weight Of seventy years, to loftier height.
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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.
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...one interior life in which all beings live with God, themselves are God, existing in the mighty whole, indistinguishable as the cloudless east is from the cloudless west, when all the hemisphere is one cerulean blue.
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Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
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That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.
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We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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I look for ghosts but none will force Their way to me. 'Tis falsely said That there was ever intercourse Between the living and the dead.
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Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
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There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon.
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What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
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A power is passing from the earth.
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Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again.
William Wordsworth
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Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
William Wordsworth