Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of… — 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
My apprehension comes in crowds, I dread the rustling of the grass, The very shadows of the clouds, Have power to shake… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Like an army defeated The snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill; The Ploughboy… — 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
Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world; One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about; and should the… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Two voices are there: one is of the deep; It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody, Now roars, now murmurs with the changing… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!. — 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 Image
Brothers all In honour, as in one community, Scholars and gentlemen. — William Wordsworth Copy Share 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… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good.” — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
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 Image
“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 Image
Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
