The eye— it cannot choose but see; we cannot bid the ear be still; our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Oft in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life. — 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
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
Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow; The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Either still I find Some imperfection in the chosen theme, Or see of absolute accomplishment Much wanting, so much wanting, in myself,… — 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
Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by One after one; the sound of rain, and bees Murmuring; the fall of rivers,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In… — 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
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will; Dear God! the very houses… — 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
