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
books-and-reading both flesh happiness pastime pure strong
Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know,Are a substantial world, both pure and good:Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
time past years
The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions.
book past lovers
Books are the best type of the influence of the past.
fear past world
He 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.
life future past
Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present, to live better in the future.
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.
cottage evening named
The cottage which was named the Evening Star/ Is gone.
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.
gratitude heard hearts left
I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deedsWith coldness still returning;Alas! the gratitude of menHath oftener left me mourning.