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Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.

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
Emotion
Recollected
Tranquillity
Poetry

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
William Wordsworth
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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.
William Wordsworth
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Wisdom married to immortal verse.
William Wordsworth
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Everything is tedious when one does not read with the feeling of the Author.
William Wordsworth
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Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice The confidence of reason give, And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!
William Wordsworth
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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.
William Wordsworth
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Chains tie us down by land and sea And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.
William Wordsworth
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Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.
William Wordsworth
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Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.
William Wordsworth
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Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
William Wordsworth
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Brothers all In honour, as in one community, Scholars and gentlemen.
William Wordsworth
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The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.
William Wordsworth
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In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .
William Wordsworth
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Nor will I then thy modest grace forget, Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring, And pensive monitor of fleeting years!
William Wordsworth
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But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?
William Wordsworth
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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.
William Wordsworth
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The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled And Shakespeare at his side,-a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world!
William Wordsworth
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Since thy return, through days and weeks Of hope that grew by stealth, How many wan and faded cheeks Have kindled into health! The Old, by thee revived, have said, 'Another year is ours' And wayworn Wanderers, poorly fed, Have smiled upon thy flowers.
William Wordsworth
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For nature then to me was all in all.
William Wordsworth
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The eye— it cannot choose but see we cannot bid the ear be still our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will.
William Wordsworth