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But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.

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
Hushed
Springs
Bitterness
Spring
Thought
Every
Things

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
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... and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
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The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.
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A Briton even in love should be A subject, not a slave!
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By happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same!
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I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive like a wildflower when these favour, and when they do not, it is in vain to look for it.
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For by superior energies more strict affiance in each other faith more firm in their unhallowed principles, the bad have fairly earned a victory over the weak, the vacillating, inconsistent good.
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The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.
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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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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!
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...one interior life in which all beings live with God, themselves are God, existing in the mighty whole, indistinguishable as the cloudless east is from the cloudless west, when all the hemisphere is one cerulean blue.
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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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A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
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Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?
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Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice The confidence of reason give, And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge
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Oft in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.
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Wisdom married to immortal verse.
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