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By happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same!
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
Chance
Rams
Happy
Crystal
White
Crystals
Another
Flood
Bank
Snow
Image
Grassy
Saws
Twofold
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
William Wordsworth
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch'd in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
William Wordsworth
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
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The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way.
William Wordsworth
The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
William Wordsworth
And he is oft the wisest manWho is not wise at all.
William Wordsworth
When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.
William Wordsworth
A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.
William Wordsworth
Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
William Wordsworth
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
William Wordsworth
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters.
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The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink I heard a voice it said Drink, pretty creature, drink'
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The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose.
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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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A tale in everything.
William Wordsworth
A simple child. That lightly draws its breath. And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death?
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Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, And at my casement sing, Though it should prove a farewell lay And this our parting spring. * * * * * Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Come, and my requiem sing, Nor fail to be the harbinger Of everlasting spring.
William Wordsworth
Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.
William Wordsworth
The child shall become father to the man.
William Wordsworth
