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What know we of the Blest above but that they sing, and that they love?

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
Blest
Sing
Love

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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The world is too much with us late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
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Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all
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Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
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Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.
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The Poet, gentle creature as he is, Hath, like the Lover, his unruly times His fits when he is neither sick nor well, Though no distress be near him but his own Unmanageable thoughts.
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Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?
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The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose.
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Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel To self-reproach.
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Bright was the summer's noon when quickening steps Followed each other till a dreary moor Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top Standing alone, as from a rampart's edge, I overlooked the bed of Windermere, Like a vast river, stretching in the sun.
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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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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.
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The moving accident is not my trade To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.
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Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart.
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To be young was very heaven!
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Write to me frequently & the longest letters possible never mind whether you have facts or no to communicate fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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I'll teach my boy the sweetest things I'll teach him how the owlet sings.
William Wordsworth
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I've watched you now a full half-hour Self-poised upon that yellow flower And, little Butterfly! Indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! - not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!
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Wisdom married to immortal verse.
William Wordsworth
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We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud, And magnify thy name Almighty God! But man is thy most awful instrument, In working out a pure intent.
William Wordsworth
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The weight of sadness was in wonder lost.
William Wordsworth