873 Quotes by William Wordsworth

A primrose by a river's brimA yellow primrose was to him,And it was nothing more.

Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.

Stop thinking for once in your life!

Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.

Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility

But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.

Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.

A poet who has not produced a good poem before he is twenty-five, we may conclude cannot, and never will do so.

Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all