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Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets.
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
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Enduring
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Poetry
More quotes by William Wordsworth
A brotherhood of venerable trees.
William Wordsworth
Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom's heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoe'er the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.
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The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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The streams with softest sound are flowing, The grass you almost hear it growing, You hear it now, if e'er you can.
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Great men have been among us hands that penn'd And tongues that utter'd wisdom--better none
William Wordsworth
Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.
William Wordsworth
All that we behold is full of blessings.
William Wordsworth
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
William Wordsworth
'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.
William Wordsworth
Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
William Wordsworth
Dreams, books, are each a world.
William Wordsworth
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
William Wordsworth
Yet tears to human suffering are due And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.
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Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
William Wordsworth
Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
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It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.
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Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth
The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.
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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.
William Wordsworth