Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.
William Wordsworth
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Breathes
Every
Enjoys
Breathe
Tufts
Air
Bower
Flower
Periwinkle
Trailed
Sweet
Primrose
Faith
Wreaths
Enjoy
More quotes by William Wordsworth
She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
William Wordsworth
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
William Wordsworth
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!
William Wordsworth
The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone
William Wordsworth
Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow!
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth
Great men have been among us hands that penn'd And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none
William Wordsworth
The budding rose above the rose full blown.
William Wordsworth
When men change swords for ledgers, and desert The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed I had, my Country--am I to be blamed?
William Wordsworth
Books are the best type of the influence of the past.
William Wordsworth
She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!
William Wordsworth
Departing summer hath assumed An aspect tenderly illumed, The gentlest look of spring That calls from yonder leafy shade Unfaded, yet prepared to fade, A timely carolling.
William Wordsworth
Neither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary intercourse of daily life, shall ever prevail against us.
William Wordsworth
Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound.
William Wordsworth
Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth: And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle, Has vanished from his lonely hearth.
William Wordsworth
The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled And Shakespeare at his side,-a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world!
William Wordsworth
Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!
William Wordsworth
Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet
William Wordsworth
That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth