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If thou art beautiful, and youth and thought endue thee with all truth-be strong--be worthy of the grace of God.
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
Art
Beautiful
Thou
Thought
Thee
Truth
Worthy
Youth
Grace
Beauty
Strong
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
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The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
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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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The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink I heard a voice it said Drink, pretty creature, drink'
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Careless of books, yet having felt the power Of Nature, by the gentle agency Of natural objects, led me on to feel For passions that were not my own, and think (At random and imperfectly indeed) On man, the heart of man, and human life.
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As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed An emblem yields to friends and enemies How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.
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Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man?
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To be young was very heaven!
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We Poets in our youth begin in gladness But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
William Wordsworth
But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for humankind, Is happy as a lover.
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Truth takes no account of centuries.
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And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
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She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.
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Free as a bird to settle where I will.
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The vision and the faculty divine Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse.
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But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.
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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
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For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone.
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