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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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William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Reader
Bring
Thought
Find
Tale
Everything
Stores
Mind
Tales
Would
Gentle
Silent
More quotes by William Wordsworth
She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
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There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream.
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As generations come and go, Their arts, their customs, ebb and flow Fate, fortune, sweep strong powers away, And feeble, of themselves, decay.
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Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
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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!
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Two voices are there one is of the sea, One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
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But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?
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A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free.
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Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
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Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
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Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.
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The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
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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.
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The childhood of today is the manhood of tomorrow
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Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.
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Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.
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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
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Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you 'll grow double! Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble?
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