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Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,-air, earth, and skies! There 's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee thou hast great allies Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.

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
Great
Behinds
Agony
Work
Behind
Allies
Mind
Wind
Breathing
Men
Friends
Powers
Love
Forget
Thou
Agonies
Common
Thee
Unconquerable
Left
Sky
Hast
Earth
Air
Skies

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?
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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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And I am happy when I sing.
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one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.
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The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled And Shakespeare at his side,-a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world!
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Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!
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When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.
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Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
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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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The world is too much with us late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
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Small service is true service, while it lasts.
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Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays: A face o'er which a thousand shadows go!
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Write to me frequently & the longest letters possible never mind whether you have facts or no to communicate fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all
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Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.
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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
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Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom's heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoe'er the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.
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His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.
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