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A great poet ought to a certain degree to rectify men's feelings... to render their feelings more sane, pure and permanent, in short, more consonant to Nature.

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
Feelings
Sane
Nature
Permanent
Certain
Degree
Great
Degrees
Men
Poet
Consonant
Short
Consonants
Pure
Rectify
Ought
Render

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The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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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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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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A Primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him And it was something more.
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Monastic brotherhood, upon rock Aerial.
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Departing summer hath assumed An aspect tenderly illumed, The gentlest look of spring That calls from yonder leafy shade Unfaded, yet prepared to fade, A timely carolling.
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He who feels contempt for any living thing hath faculties that he hath never used, and thought with him is in its infancy.
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Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
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Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger - to let fall a tear And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.
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What are fears but voices airy? Whispering harm where harm is not. And deluding the unwary Till the fatal bolt is shot!
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Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave!
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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.
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The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
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Knowing that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her 'tis her privilege, through all the years of this our life, to lead from joy to joy.
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Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.
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Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
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Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive But to be young was very heaven.
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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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Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!
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