873 Quotes by William Wordsworth

And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains,-alas! too few.

Primroses, the Spring may love them; Summer knows but little of them.

And he is oft the wisest manWho is not wise at all.

Another year! - another deadly blow!/ Another mighty empire overthrown!/ And we are left, or shall be left, alone.

Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.

The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.

but(for) she is in her grave - and, oh, the difference to me

When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.

Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither.