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Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.

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
Power
Take
Good
Simplicity
Rule
Plan
Plans
Simple
Keep

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him it was blessedness and love!
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Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees.
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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.
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[Mathematics] is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy.
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Give all thou canst high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
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Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.
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Truths that wake To perish never
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Far from the world I walk, and from all care.
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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
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Poetry is the outcome of emotions recollected in tranquility.
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Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
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But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.
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Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays: A face o'er which a thousand shadows go!
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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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Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.
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On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing in solitude, I oft perceive Fair trains of images before me rise, Accompanied by feelings of delight Pure, or with no unpleasing sadness mixed.
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She gave me eyes, she gave me ears And humble cares, and delicate fears A heart, the fountain of sweet tears And love and thought and joy.
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The primal duties shine aloft, like stars The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of Man, like flowers.
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