Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . . — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet is the lore which nature brings, our meddeling interlect mis-shapes the beautious forms of things. we murder to dissect — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect. Enough of… — 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
Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Sweet Daisy! oft I talk to thee… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things: We murder to dissect. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather,… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
I, methought, while the sweet breath of heaven Was blowing on my body, felt within A correspondent breeze, that gently moved With… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
And what if thou, sweet May, hast known Mishap by worm and blight; If expectations newly blown Have perished in thy sight;… — 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
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind. — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent… — 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
