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Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.

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
Insults
Wrongs
Insult

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.
William Wordsworth
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To be a Prodigal's favourite,-then, worse truth, A Miser's pensioner,-behold our lot!
William Wordsworth
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Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
William Wordsworth
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A Primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him And it was something more.
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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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
William Wordsworth
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Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.
William Wordsworth
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Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!
William Wordsworth
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Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.
William Wordsworth
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Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you 'll grow double! Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble?
William Wordsworth
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Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room And hermits are contented with their cells.
William Wordsworth
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Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!
William Wordsworth
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The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink I heard a voice it said Drink, pretty creature, drink'
William Wordsworth
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
William Wordsworth
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For oft, when on my couch I lie in vacant or in pensive mood they flash upon that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude
William Wordsworth
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One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
William Wordsworth
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The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
William Wordsworth
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How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!
William Wordsworth
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There is a luxury in self-dispraise And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
William Wordsworth
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Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, one of a mighty multitude whose way and motion is a harmony and dance magnificent.
William Wordsworth