Quote

A tale in everything.

William Wordsworth

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Tale
Tales
Everything

More quotes by William Wordsworth

Image
But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?
William Wordsworth
Image
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
William Wordsworth
Image
If thou art beautiful, and youth and thought endue thee with all truth-be strong--be worthy of the grace of God.
William Wordsworth
Image
But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant
William Wordsworth
Image
The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
William Wordsworth
Image
Meek Walton's heavenly memory.
William Wordsworth
Image
Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.
William Wordsworth
Image
There is a luxury in self-dispraise And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
William Wordsworth
Image
We Poets in our youth begin in gladness But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
William Wordsworth
Image
How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
William Wordsworth
Image
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
William Wordsworth
Image
And mighty poets in their misery dead.
William Wordsworth
Image
But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.
William Wordsworth
Image
The world is too much with us late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
William Wordsworth
Image
She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!
William Wordsworth
Image
Oh, blank confusion! true epitome Of what the mighty City is herself, To thousands upon thousands of her sons, Living amid the same perpetual whirl Of trivial objects, melted and reduced To one identity.
William Wordsworth
Image
Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
William Wordsworth
Image
Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.
William Wordsworth
Image
The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!
William Wordsworth
Image
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!
William Wordsworth