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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
Theory
Either
Action
Thought
Salutary
Must
Precede
Nobler
Purposes
Moves
More quotes by William Wordsworth
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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There is creation in the eye.
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Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art Close up these barren leaves Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
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The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!
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The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.
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The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!
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And I am happy when I sing.
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My apprehension comes in crowds, I dread the rustling of the grass, The very shadows of the clouds, Have power to shake me as they pass, I question things and do not find, one that will answer to my mind, And all the world appears unkind.
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Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom's heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoe'er the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.
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The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions.
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Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees.
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Love betters what is best
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Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man?
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Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.
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A power is passing from the earth.
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When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.
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Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream.
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Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will Dear God! the very houses seem asleep And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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