873 Quotes by William Wordsworth

In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, And on the vacant air.

The primal duties shine aloft, like stars; The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of Man, like flowers.

A poet does not see or hear or feel things that others do not see or hear or feel. What makes a person a poet is the ability to recall what she has felt and seen and heard. And to relive it and describe it in such a way that others can then see and feel and hear again what they may have missed.

Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope’s perpetual breath.

For mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favourite be feeble woman’s breast.

The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where’er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

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.

With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony.

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth’s bitter leaven Effaced forever.