Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Poetry is most just to its divine origin, when it administers the comforts and breathes the thoughts of religion. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society. — 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
We Poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof come in the end despondency and madness. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Go to the poets, they will speak to thee More perfectly of purer creatures--” — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is the countenance of all science.” — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else Would overset the brain, or break… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather… — 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
The Poet, gentle creature as he is, Hath, like the Lover, his unruly times; His fits when he is neither sick nor… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be… — 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
“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 thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride; Of him who walked in glory and… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“ She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there… — 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:… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“ A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal A slumber did my spirit seal; I had no human fears: She seemed a thing… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity: the… — 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,… — 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
In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs-in spite of things silently gone out… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“ She Was A Phantom of Delight She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight; A lovely… — 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
What is a Poet? He is a man speaking to men: a man, it is true, endued with more lively sensibility, more… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport—Oh! with whom But thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
It may be safely affirmed that there neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the language of prose and metrical… — 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
“If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven, Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light, Shine, Poet! in thy place, and… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“ Upon Westminster Bridge Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet's dream. — 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
