Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Serene will be our days, and bright and happy will our nature be, when love is an unerring light, and joy its… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Lines Written In Early Spring I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trails its wreath; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“He is by nature led To peace so perfect that the young behold With envy, what the old man hardly feels.” — 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
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains; and of all that we behold from this… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet is the lore which nature brings, our meddeling interlect mis-shapes the beautious forms of things. we murder to dissect — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die! — 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
Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,-air, earth, and skies! There 's not a breathing of the common wind… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive! — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of… — 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
