Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone
William Wordsworth
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Cause
Causes
Beauty
Gone
Purpose
Good
Homely
Loss
More quotes by William Wordsworth
A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
William Wordsworth
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will Dear God! the very houses seem asleep And all that mighty heart is lying still!
William Wordsworth
We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.
William Wordsworth
A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light
William Wordsworth
To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
William Wordsworth
All that we behold is full of blessings.
William Wordsworth
Give all thou canst high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
William Wordsworth
Science appears but what in truth she is, Not as our glory and our absolute boast, But as a succedaneum, and a prop To our infirmity.
William Wordsworth
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
William Wordsworth
We have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, And overspread the future years with hope.
William Wordsworth
He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
William Wordsworth
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
William Wordsworth
Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all
William Wordsworth
When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.
William Wordsworth
Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
William Wordsworth
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.
William Wordsworth
A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident tomorrows.
William Wordsworth
Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet
William Wordsworth
the Mind of Man-- My haunt, and the main region of my song.
William Wordsworth
A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.
William Wordsworth