873 Quotes by William Wordsworth

Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet.

Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There’s more of wisdom in it.

Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge – it is as immortal as the heart of man.

Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;.

Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.

A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.

The monumental pomp of age Was with this goodly personage; A stature undepressed in size, Unbent, which rather seemed to rise In open victory o’er the weight Of seventy years, to loftier height.

Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And ’tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.

Wisdom and Spirit of the universe! Thou soul, that art the eternity of thought, And giv’st to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion.