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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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William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Hours
Dundee
Onset
Hour
Gave
Single
Word
More quotes by William Wordsworth
I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride Of him who walked in glory and in joy, Following his plough, along the mountain-side. By our own spirits we are deified We Poets in our youth begin in gladness, But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
William Wordsworth
The vision and the faculty divine Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse.
William Wordsworth
Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great is passed away.
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'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.
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A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.
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Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
William Wordsworth
But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant
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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
William Wordsworth
Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
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Death is the quiet haven of us all.
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Everything is tedious when one does not read with the feeling of the Author.
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In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
William Wordsworth
Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.
William Wordsworth
Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?
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Primroses, the Spring may love them Summer knows but little of them.
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Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
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Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!
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A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
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If the time should ever come when what is now called Science, thus famliarised to men, shall be ready to put on, as it were, a form of flesh and blood, the Poet will lend his divine spirit to the aid the transfiguration, and will welcome the Being thus produced, as a dear and genuine inmate of the household of man.
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Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets.
William Wordsworth
