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She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to 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
Spring
Maids
Among
Dove
Ways
Sad
Way
Obscurity
Love
Springs
Beside
Untrodden
Praise
Dwelt
None
Maid
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!
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The child shall become father to the man.
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Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,-air, earth, and skies! There 's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee thou hast great allies Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.
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In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.
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Great men have been among us hands that penn'd And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none
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We have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, And overspread the future years with hope.
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That to this mountain-daisy's self were known The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown On the smooth surface of this naked stone!
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Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.
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And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
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One solace yet remains for us who came Into this world in days when story lacked Severe research, that in our hearts we know How, for exciting youth's heroic flame, Assent is power, belief the soul of fact.
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy.
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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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But to a higher mark than song can reach, Rose this pure eloquence.
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And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
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A cheerful life is what the Muses love. A soaring spirit is their prime delight.
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The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink I heard a voice it said Drink, pretty creature, drink'
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To be young was very heaven!
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A simple child. That lightly draws its breath. And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death?
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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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He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
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