Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower. — 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
I've watched you now a full half-hour; Self-poised upon that yellow flower And, little Butterfly! Indeed I know not if you sleep… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away; less happy… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave! — 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
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee! . . . . . . Thy soul was… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In… — 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
