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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
Felicities
Felicity
Nature

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.
William Wordsworth
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Truth takes no account of centuries.
William Wordsworth
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Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
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The stars of midnight shall be dear To her and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
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And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
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On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing is solitude
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Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room And hermits are contented with their cells.
William Wordsworth
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That to this mountain-daisy's self were known The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown On the smooth surface of this naked stone!
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I look for ghosts but none will force Their way to me. 'Tis falsely said That there was ever intercourse Between the living and the dead.
William Wordsworth
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But to a higher mark than song can reach, Rose this pure eloquence.
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Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.
William Wordsworth
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Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.
William Wordsworth
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Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.
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Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
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The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.
William Wordsworth
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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
William Wordsworth
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I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive like a wildflower when these favour, and when they do not, it is in vain to look for it.
William Wordsworth
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Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art Close up these barren leaves Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
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Monastic brotherhood, upon rock Aerial.
William Wordsworth
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The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
William Wordsworth