I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity: the emotion is contemplated till, by a species of reaction, the tranquillity gradually disappears, and an emotion, kindred to that which was before the subject of contemplation, is gradually produced, and does itself actually exist in the mind.
William WordsworthThat best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
William WordsworthHe spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.
William WordsworthBut thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
William Wordsworth