That to this mountain-daisy's self were known The beauty of its star-shaped shadow, thrown On the smooth surface of this naked stone! — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give, And in the light of truth thy… — 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
To character and success, two things, contradictory as they may seem, must go together... humble dependence on God and manly reliance on… — 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
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
