Quote

Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.

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
Love
Hope
Serve
Hands
Hour
Power
Silent
Live
Toward
Enough
Greater
Dower
Feel
Hours
Tomb
Feels
Future
Tombs
Something
Faith
Transcendent

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.
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The mysteries that cups of flowers infold And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.
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Serene will be our days, and bright and happy will our nature be, when love is an unerring light, and joy its own security.
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Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.
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In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .
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And mighty poets in their misery dead.
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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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Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art Close up these barren leaves Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
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Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.
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Everything is tedious when one does not read with the feeling of the Author.
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The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.
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There is a comfort in the strength of love 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.
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How is it that you live, and what is it you do?
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There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon.
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Then blame not those who, by the mightiest lever Known to the moral world, Imagination.
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Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!
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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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That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
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And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
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