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William Wordsworth Quotes

Poet
Born On
1770-04-07
Died On
1850-04-23
Birth Place
Kingdom of Great Britain
Death Place
Cumberland, United Kingdom
Birth Sign
aries
Father
John Wordsworth
Mother
Ann Cookson
Spouse
Mary Hutchinson
Nationality
British
Education
University of Cambridge , Hawkshead Grammar School , St John's College, Cambridge
Writers, Poets

Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.

William Wordsworth

Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.

William Wordsworth

But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave.

William Wordsworth

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing often times the still, sad music of humanity.

William Wordsworth

The best portion of a good man's life: his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

William Wordsworth

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.

William Wordsworth

Faith is a passionate intuition.

William Wordsworth

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.

William Wordsworth

The wiser mind mourns less for what age takes away than what it leaves behind.

William Wordsworth

Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.

William Wordsworth

Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be...

William Wordsworth

What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.

William Wordsworth

The poet's darling.

William Wordsworth

Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.

William Wordsworth

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.

William Wordsworth

Wisdom is oft-times nearer when we stoop Than when we soar.

William Wordsworth

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

William Wordsworth

In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.

William Wordsworth

Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present to live better in the future.

William Wordsworth

How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.

William Wordsworth

The music in my heart I bore Long after it was heard no more.

William Wordsworth

What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.

William Wordsworth

Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.

William Wordsworth

Rest and be thankful.

William Wordsworth

My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man;

William Wordsworth

Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.

William Wordsworth

Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.

William Wordsworth

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

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