William Wordsworth
William Wordsworth
William Wordsworthwas a major English Romantic poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, helped to launch the Romantic Age in English literature with their joint publication Lyrical Ballads...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth7 April 1770
cloud floats golden high lonely saw wandered
I wandered lonely as a cloud / That floats on high o'er vales and hills, / When all at once I saw a crowd, / A host, of golden daffodils.
lonely
Often have I sighed to measureBy myself a lonely pleasure,Sighed to think, I read a bookOnly read, perhaps, by me.
creature earth godlike lonely sleeps vanished
The rapt one, of the godlike forehead,/ The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth:/ And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle,/ Has vanished from his lonely hearth.
lonely loneliness book
Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
lonely loneliness sleep
Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth: And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle, Has vanished from his lonely hearth.
lonely nature rivers
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
lonely sleep sky
The silence that is in the starry sky, / The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
lonely nature spring
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
common harvest quiet random round sleeps truths
In common things that round us lieSome random truths he can impart, --The harvest of a quiet eyeThat broods and sleeps on his own heart.
birth deeper impulses
Impulses of deeper birth have come to him in solitude.
form function shall
Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;The Form remains, the Function never dies.
noisy strongest whom
Strongest mindsAre often those of whom the noisy worldHears least.
heaven knows
Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, -- Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where! But in the very world, which is the world Of all of us, -- the place where in the end We find our happiness, or not at all!
became good honest ten
After ten months' melancholy,/ Became a good and honest man.