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On a fair prospect some have looked, And felt, as I have heard them say, As if the moving time had been A thing as steadfast as the scene On which they gazed themselves away.
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
Thing
Fairs
Time
Fair
Looked
Scene
Heard
Moving
Gazed
Felt
Steadfast
Away
Prospect
More quotes by William Wordsworth
O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.
William Wordsworth
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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A genial hearth, a hospitable board, and a refined rusticity.
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Give all thou canst high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
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Milton, thou should'st be living at this hour.
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And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet whence he blew Soul-animating strains,-alas! too few.
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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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True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
William Wordsworth
The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
William Wordsworth
Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room And hermits are contented with their cells.
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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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But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
William Wordsworth
Brothers all In honour, as in one community, Scholars and gentlemen.
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The moving accident is not my trade To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.
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The silence that is in the starry sky, / The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
William Wordsworth
Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.
William Wordsworth
Wisdom sits with children round her knees.
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One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.
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