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He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.
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
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Pure
Strife
Feel
Courses
Spirits
Feels
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Worlds
Love
Sure
Fears
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Future
Heal
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Beat
Away
Beats
Equable
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Spake
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
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If thou art beautiful, and youth and thought endue thee with all truth-be strong--be worthy of the grace of God.
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A Briton even in love should be A subject, not a slave!
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Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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How is it that you live, and what is it you do?
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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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The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
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The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.
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Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him it was blessedness and love!
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A soul so pitiably forlorn, If such do on this earth abide, May season apathy with scorn, May turn indifference to pride And still be not unblest- compared With him who grovels, self-debarred From all that lies within the scope Of holy faith and christian hope Or, shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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Truths that wake To perish never
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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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The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose.
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Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
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The vision and the faculty divine Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse.
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Delivered from the galling yoke of time.
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A power is passing from the earth.
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A cheerful life is what the Muses love. A soaring spirit is their prime delight.
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I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man.
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