But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
William WordsworthI bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
William WordsworthThe moving accident is not my trade; To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: 'Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.
William WordsworthNeither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary intercourse of daily life, shall ever prevail against us.
William WordsworthAnd when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.
William WordsworthAll men feel a habitual gratitude, and something of an honorable bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them.
William WordsworthBut who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant
William WordsworthMiss not the occasion; by the forelock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.
William WordsworthShe was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
William WordsworthHearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.
William WordsworthBy all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
William WordsworthHuge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams.
William WordsworthImagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality.
William WordsworthA great poet ought to a certain degree to rectify men's feelings... to render their feelings more sane, pure and permanent, in short, more consonant to Nature.
William Wordsworth