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Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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
Coast
False
Losing
Fire
Lost
Shipwrecked
Others
Shipwreck
May
Kindles
Fires
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Where the statue stood Of Newton, with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone.
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Open-mindedness is the harvest of a quiet eye.
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Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
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Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither.
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We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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'Tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes!
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth
I listened, motionless and still And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.
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Small service is true service, while it lasts.
William Wordsworth
One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
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And what if thou, sweet May, hast known Mishap by worm and blight If expectations newly blown Have perished in thy sight If loves and joys, while up they sprung, Were caught as in a snare Such is the lot of all the young, However bright and fair.
William Wordsworth
But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.
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That to this mountain-daisy's self were known The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown On the smooth surface of this naked stone!
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Then blame not those who, by the mightiest lever Known to the moral world, Imagination.
William Wordsworth
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.
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Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
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Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger - to let fall a tear And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.
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Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great is passed away.
William Wordsworth
The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.
William Wordsworth
