The good die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust, burn to the socket. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Fiction; inner thoughts of Elisha True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky! — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Knowing that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, through all the years of this our life,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
One solace yet remains for us who came Into this world in days when story lacked Severe research, that in our hearts… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The clouds that gather round the setting sun do take a sober colouring from an eye that hath kept watch o'er man's… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Careless of books, yet having felt the power Of Nature, by the gentle agency Of natural objects, led me on to feel… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
. . .this prayer I make, Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 't is her privilege, Through… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.” — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The moving accident is not my trade; To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Write to me frequently & the longest letters possible; never mind whether you have facts or no to communicate; fill your paper… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen. The storm came on before its time: She wandered up… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Babylon, Learned and wise, hath perished utterly, Nor leaves her speech one word to aid the sigh That would lament her. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride. — William Wordsworth Copy Share
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… — William Wordsworth Copy Share
“Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good.” — William Wordsworth Copy Share
Now when the primrose makes a splendid show, And lilies face the March-winds in full blow, And humbler growths as moved with one desire… — William Wordsworth Copy Share
“Where are your books? - that light bequeathed To beings else forlorn and blind! Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed From dead men… — William Wordsworth Copy Share
Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets. — William Wordsworth Copy Share
The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears. — William Wordsworth Copy Share
“She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament: Her eyes… — William Wordsworth Copy Share
“If the time should ever come when what is now called science, thus familiarised to men, shall be ready to put on, as it… — William Wordsworth Copy Share
I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose… — William Wordsworth Copy Share
Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality. — William Wordsworth Copy Share
