There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
To the solid ground Of Nature trusts the mind which builds for aye. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And has the nature of infinity.” — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth. — 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
Knowledge and increase of enduring joy From the great Nature that exists in works Of mighty Poets. — 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
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
One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages… — 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
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
With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Sweet Daisy! oft I talk to thee… — 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
“The sky is low, the clouds are mean, A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if… — 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
Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, The heaven-eyed creature… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
A soul so pitiably forlorn, If such do on this earth abide, May season apathy with scorn, May turn indifference to pride;… — 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
“The knowledge both of the Poet and the Man of science is pleasure; but the knowledge of the one cleaves to us… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history? — 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
“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
A great poet ought to a certain degree to rectify men's feelings... to render their feelings more sane, pure and permanent, in… — 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
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Sweet is the lore which nature brings; Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things— We murder to dissect.” — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!- The Poets, who on earth have made… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor England! did I know till then What love I bore to… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The streams with softest sound are flowing, The grass you almost hear it growing, You hear it now, if e'er you can. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk; and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee. — 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
Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of… — 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. — 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
