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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
Nature
Endure
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Poetry
Works
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Joy
Mighty
Wisdom
Poets
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Exists
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
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A genial hearth, a hospitable board, and a refined rusticity.
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And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet whence he blew Soul-animating strains,-alas! too few.
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Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.
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Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.
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Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.
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Milton, thou should'st be living at this hour.
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Imagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality.
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The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
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And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.
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Truth takes no account of centuries.
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Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.
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On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing is solitude
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Knowing that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her 'tis her privilege, through all the years of this our life, to lead from joy to joy.
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That blessed mood in which the burthen of the mystery, in which the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world is lightened.
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If the time should ever come when what is now called Science, thus famliarised to men, shall be ready to put on, as it were, a form of flesh and blood, the Poet will lend his divine spirit to the aid the transfiguration, and will welcome the Being thus produced, as a dear and genuine inmate of the household of man.
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The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
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Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
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Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science
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The mind that is wise mourns less for what age takes away than what it leaves behind.
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