A cheerful life is what the Muses love. A soaring spirit is their prime delight. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic… — 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
in the mind of man, A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements,… — 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
Yet sometimes, when the secret cup Of still and serious thought went round, It seemed as if he drank it up, He… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe! Thou soul, that art the eternity of thought, And giv'st to forms and images a breath… — 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
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
Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he That every man in arms should wish to be? It is the generous spirit,… — 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
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
