“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
Even thus last night, and two nights more I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep, by any stealth: So do not… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health! — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Behold the Child among his new-born blisses A six years' Darling of a pigmy size! See, where 'mid work of his own… — 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
