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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
None
Maid
Spring
Maids
Among
Dove
Ways
Sad
Way
Obscurity
Love
Springs
Beside
Untrodden
Praise
Dwelt
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished.
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.
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Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar.
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Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.
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Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet.
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Knowing that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her 'tis her privilege, through all the years of this our life, to lead from joy to joy.
William Wordsworth
We murder to dissect.
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There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon.
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Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
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Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.
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And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
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Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.
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The childhood of today is the manhood of tomorrow
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The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed,-render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod!
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A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by One after one the sound of rain, and bees Murmuring the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky - I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie Sleepless.
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A mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
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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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Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!
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