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

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Air
Bower
Flower
Periwinkle
Sweet
Trailed
Faith
Primrose
Enjoy
Wreaths
Every
Breathes
Enjoys
Breathe
Tufts

More quotes by William Wordsworth

Image
To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.
William Wordsworth
Image
Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
William Wordsworth
Image
For oft, when on my couch I lie in vacant or in pensive mood they flash upon that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude
William Wordsworth
Image
Of all that is most beauteous, imaged there In happier beauty more pellucid streams, An ampler ether, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams.
William Wordsworth
Image
But He is risen, a later star of dawn.
William Wordsworth
Image
Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.
William Wordsworth
Image
He loves not well whose love is bold! I would not have thee come too nigh. The sun's gold would not seem pure gold Unless the sun were in the sky: To take him thence and chain him near Would make his beauty disappear. William Winter, Love's Queen. The unconquerable pang of despised love.
William Wordsworth
Image
Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect
William Wordsworth
Image
The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.
William Wordsworth
Image
Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.
William Wordsworth
Image
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
William Wordsworth
Image
The monumental pomp of age Was with this goodly personage A stature undepressed in size, Unbent, which rather seemed to rise In open victory o'er the weight Of seventy years, to loftier height.
William Wordsworth
Image
The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
William Wordsworth
Image
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 So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
William Wordsworth
Image
Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.
William Wordsworth
Image
A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.
William Wordsworth
Image
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
William Wordsworth
Image
The thought of death sits easy on the man Who has been born and dies among the mountains.
William Wordsworth
Image
Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart.
William Wordsworth
Image
By all means sometimes be alone salute thyself see what thy soul doth wear dare to look in thy chest and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
William Wordsworth