Quote

The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone

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
Good
Homely
Loss
Cause
Causes
Beauty
Gone
Purpose

More quotes by William Wordsworth

Image
one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
William Wordsworth
Image
The eye— it cannot choose but see we cannot bid the ear be still our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will.
William Wordsworth
Image
Thou unassuming common-place of Nature, with that homely face.
William Wordsworth
Image
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee! . . . . . . Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: So didst thou travel on life's common way In cheerful godliness.
William Wordsworth
Image
One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
William Wordsworth
Image
By happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same!
William Wordsworth
Image
The Poet, gentle creature as he is, Hath, like the Lover, his unruly times His fits when he is neither sick nor well, Though no distress be near him but his own Unmanageable thoughts.
William Wordsworth
Image
Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.
William Wordsworth
Image
Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.
William Wordsworth
Image
The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.
William Wordsworth
Image
These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.
William Wordsworth
Image
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
Image
The moving accident is not my trade To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.
William Wordsworth
Image
Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.
William Wordsworth
Image
For nature then to me was all in all.
William Wordsworth
Image
Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.
William Wordsworth
Image
Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
William Wordsworth
Image
Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.
William Wordsworth
Image
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
Image
The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
William Wordsworth