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The stars of midnight shall be dear To her and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
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
Sound
Dear
Wayward
Born
Dance
Murmuring
Place
Shall
Lean
Many
Beauty
Midnight
Stars
Round
Secret
Rounds
Face
Pass
Faces
Ears
Rivulets
More quotes by William Wordsworth
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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And suddenly all your troubles melt away, all your worries are gone, and it is for no reason other than the look in your partner's eyes. Yes, sometimes life and love really is that simple.
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Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.
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These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.
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Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride.
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And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
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She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.
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Dreams, books, are each a world.
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Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.
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Oh, blank confusion! true epitome Of what the mighty City is herself, To thousands upon thousands of her sons, Living amid the same perpetual whirl Of trivial objects, melted and reduced To one identity.
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Love betters what is best
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We have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, And overspread the future years with hope.
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.
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One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.
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Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!
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Faith is a passionate intuition.
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Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.
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That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
William Wordsworth
