Quote

But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.

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
Still
Music
Oftentimes
Hearing
Humanity
Stills

More quotes by William Wordsworth

Image
All men feel a habitual gratitude, and something of an honorable bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them.
William Wordsworth
Image
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.
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
Nor will I then thy modest grace forget, Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring, And pensive monitor of fleeting years!
William Wordsworth
Image
The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
William Wordsworth
Image
Since thy return, through days and weeks Of hope that grew by stealth, How many wan and faded cheeks Have kindled into health! The Old, by thee revived, have said, 'Another year is ours' And wayworn Wanderers, poorly fed, Have smiled upon thy flowers.
William Wordsworth
Image
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
William Wordsworth
Image
All that we behold is full of blessings.
William Wordsworth
Image
And mighty poets in their misery dead.
William Wordsworth
Image
Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.
William Wordsworth
Image
She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
William Wordsworth
Image
But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
William Wordsworth
Image
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again.
William Wordsworth
Image
A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.
William Wordsworth
Image
Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.
William Wordsworth
Image
Meek Walton's heavenly memory.
William Wordsworth
Image
And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
William Wordsworth
Image
Two voices are there one is of the sea, One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
William Wordsworth
Image
Stop thinking for once in your life!
William Wordsworth
Image
The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
William Wordsworth