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Nature's old felicities.

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
Felicity
Nature
Felicities

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
William Wordsworth
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the Mind of Man-- My haunt, and the main region of my song.
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For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone.
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The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves And thus for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives.
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One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.
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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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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
William Wordsworth
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Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
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Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!
William Wordsworth
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Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.
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The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
William Wordsworth
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There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead.
William Wordsworth
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Choice word and measured phrase above the reach Of ordinary men.
William Wordsworth
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In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .
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Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets.
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Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.
William Wordsworth
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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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But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave.
William Wordsworth
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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
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Heaven lies about us in our infancy.
William Wordsworth