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Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.
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
Hopes
Became
Society
Hope
Children
Glittering
Airy
Bride
Brides
More quotes by William Wordsworth
The child is the father of man.
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One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
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Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!
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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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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
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Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel To self-reproach.
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In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.
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Earth has not anything to show more fair.
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Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.
William Wordsworth
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
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Bright was the summer's noon when quickening steps Followed each other till a dreary moor Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top Standing alone, as from a rampart's edge, I overlooked the bed of Windermere, Like a vast river, stretching in the sun.
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The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.
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poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge
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Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.
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The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.
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How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
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True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.
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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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Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.
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It is the 1st mild day of March. Each minute sweeter than before... there is a blessing in the air.
William Wordsworth
