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Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.

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
Scorn
Humble
However
Friends

More quotes by William Wordsworth

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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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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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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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Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room And hermits are contented with their cells.
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All that we behold is full of blessings.
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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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There is a luxury in self-dispraise And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
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Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.
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I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea Nor England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.
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To be a Prodigal's favourite,-then, worse truth, A Miser's pensioner,-behold our lot!
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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
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Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
William Wordsworth
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Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.
William Wordsworth
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
William Wordsworth
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And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
William Wordsworth
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And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
William Wordsworth
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Bright was the summer's noon when quickening steps Followed each other till a dreary moor Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top Standing alone, as from a rampart's edge, I overlooked the bed of Windermere, Like a vast river, stretching in the sun.
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