William Wordsworth Quotes

The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite: a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, or any interest Unborrowed from the eye.—
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey (l. 77-84). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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the wiser mind Mourns less for what Age takes away, Than what it leaves behind.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. The Fountain (l. 34-36). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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feelings too Of unremembered pleasure; such, perhaps, As may have had no trivial influence On that best portion of a good man's life; His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey (l. 31-36). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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We wear a face of joy, because We have been glad of yore.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. The Fountain (l. 47-48). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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The still, sad music of humanity,
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey (l. 92). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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Too blest with any one to pair; Thyself thy own enjoyment.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. The Green Linnet (l. 23-24). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey (l. 53-54). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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The good die first And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust Burn to the socket.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. the old man, in The Ruined Cottage, l. 77-9, part of The Excursion, bk. 1 (1814).
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something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey (l. 97-98). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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Where the statue stood Of Newton with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind for ever Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. The Prelude, bk. 3. Of the statue of Newton at Trinity College, Cambridge University.
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