William Wordsworth

(1770-1850 / Cumberland / England)

William Wordsworth Quotes

  • ''And not in utter nakedness,
    But trailing clouds of glory do we come
    From God, who is our home:
    Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
    Shades of the prison-house begin to close''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 63-67). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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  • ''The world is too much with us; late and soon,
    Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. The World Is Too Much with Us (l. 1-2). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''The homely Nurse doth all she can
    To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man,
    Forget the glories he hath known,
    And that imperial palace whence he came.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 81-84). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''Two voices are there; one is of the Sea,
    One of the Mountains; each a mighty Voice:
    In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice,
    They were thy chosen Music, Liberty!''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland (l. 1-4). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''To me alone there came a thought of grief;
    A timely utterance gave that thought relief,
    And I again am strong:''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 22-24). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''Type of the wise, who soar, but never roam—
    True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. To a Skylark (l. 17-18). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''And fade into the light of common day.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 76). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''But an old age serene and bright,
    And lovely as a Lapland night,
    Shall lead thee to thy grave.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. To a Young Lady (1805).
  • ''Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might
    Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height,
    Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke
    The years to bring the inevitable yoke,''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 121-124). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''Come, blessed barrier between day and day,
    Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. To Sleep (l. 13-14). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.

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Best Poem of William Wordsworth

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud (Daffodils)

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.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I ...

Read the full of I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud (Daffodils)

A Complaint

There is a change--and I am poor;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart's door,
Whose only business was to flow;
And flow it did; not taking heed
Of its own bounty, or my need.

What happy moments did I count!
Blest was I then all bliss above!

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