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The child shall become father to the man.
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
Men
Shall
Child
Father
Become
Children
More quotes by William Wordsworth
What are fears but voices airy? Whispering harm where harm is not. And deluding the unwary Till the fatal bolt is shot!
William Wordsworth
Earth has not anything to show more fair.
William Wordsworth
What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
William Wordsworth
The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.
William Wordsworth
Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.
William Wordsworth
Yon foaming flood seems motionless as iceIts dizzy turbulence eludes the eye,Frozen by distance.
William Wordsworth
Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!
William Wordsworth
The very flowers are sacred to the poor.
William Wordsworth
Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees.
William Wordsworth
But He is risen, a later star of dawn.
William Wordsworth
A cheerful life is what the Muses love. A soaring spirit is their prime delight.
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth
That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.
William Wordsworth
May books and nature be their early joy!
William Wordsworth
Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
William Wordsworth
Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound.
William Wordsworth
In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.
William Wordsworth
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things: We murder to dissect.
William Wordsworth
Open-mindedness is the harvest of a quiet eye.
William Wordsworth
And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
William Wordsworth