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The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.
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
Tears
Growth
Common
Mother
Earth
Suffices
Humblest
Mirth
Motherhood
More quotes by William Wordsworth
When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.
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The child is father of the man.
William Wordsworth
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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Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!
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Careless of books, yet having felt the power Of Nature, by the gentle agency Of natural objects, led me on to feel For passions that were not my own, and think (At random and imperfectly indeed) On man, the heart of man, and human life.
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The silence that is in the starry sky, / The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
William Wordsworth
Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
William Wordsworth
Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
William Wordsworth
A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.
William Wordsworth
Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel To self-reproach.
William Wordsworth
What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
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Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.
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Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.
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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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Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!
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Death is the quiet haven of us all.
William Wordsworth
Whether we be young or old,Our destiny, our being's heart and home,Is with infinitude, and only thereWith hope it is, hope that can never die,Effort and expectation, and desire,And something evermore about to be.
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Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth: And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle, Has vanished from his lonely hearth.
William Wordsworth
Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
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Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow!
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