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In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the 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
Reverie
Pleasant
Mood
Sweet
Thoughts
Bring
Mind
More quotes by William Wordsworth
His high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright.
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A lawyer art thou? Draw not nigh! Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face.
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Plain living and high thinking are no more. The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.
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My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began So is it now I am a man.
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Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present, to live better in the future.
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The wealthiest man among us is the best
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I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
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For all things are less dreadful than they seem.
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Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness
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Earth helped him with the cry of blood.
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Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.
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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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Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
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Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.
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In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, And on the vacant air.
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To be a Prodigal's favourite,-then, worse truth, A Miser's pensioner,-behold our lot!
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Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.
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Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.
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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!
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