Quote

'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.

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
Round
Pluck
Rounds
Shrink
Endure
Bind
Sorrow
Shower
Keenest
Flower
Shrinks
Sufferer
Wind
Showers
Heaviest
Faith
Affliction
Wreaths
Temples
Sufferers

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One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.
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We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love And, even as these are well and wisely fixed, In dignity of being we ascend.
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Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will Dear God! the very houses seem asleep And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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The sunshine is a glorious birth But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy.
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Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
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The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way!
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Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold The likeness of whate'er on land is seen.
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And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
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Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.
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Departing summer hath assumed An aspect tenderly illumed, The gentlest look of spring That calls from yonder leafy shade Unfaded, yet prepared to fade, A timely carolling.
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For nature then to me was all in all.
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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.
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Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.
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To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.
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