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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.

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
Memory
Memories
Heaven
Survives

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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Laying out grounds may be considered a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.
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But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
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And suddenly all your troubles melt away, all your worries are gone, and it is for no reason other than the look in your partner's eyes. Yes, sometimes life and love really is that simple.
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Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!
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Delivered from the galling yoke of time.
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How is it that you live, and what is it you do?
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I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man.
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His high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright.
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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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Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.
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But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.
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A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
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We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.
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With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars.
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Imagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality.
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Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.
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A simple child. That lightly draws its breath. And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death?
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It is the 1st mild day of March. Each minute sweeter than before... there is a blessing in the air.
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Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
William Wordsworth
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Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all
William Wordsworth