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And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
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
Love
Worthy
Seem
Seems
Must
More quotes by William Wordsworth
There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon.
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There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead.
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The Eagle, he was lord above
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I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
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But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
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Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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Spires whose silent finger points to heaven.
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To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
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The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
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He loves not well whose love is bold! I would not have thee come too nigh. The sun's gold would not seem pure gold Unless the sun were in the sky: To take him thence and chain him near Would make his beauty disappear. William Winter, Love's Queen. The unconquerable pang of despised love.
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As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed An emblem yields to friends and enemies How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.
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poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge
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As generations come and go, Their arts, their customs, ebb and flow Fate, fortune, sweep strong powers away, And feeble, of themselves, decay.
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Give all thou canst high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
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Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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Delivered from the galling yoke of time.
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Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man.
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Careless of books, yet having felt the power Of Nature, by the gentle agency Of natural objects, led me on to feel For passions that were not my own, and think (At random and imperfectly indeed) On man, the heart of man, and human life.
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I'll teach my boy the sweetest things I'll teach him how the owlet sings.
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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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