William Wordsworth

(1770-1850 / Cumberland / England)

William Wordsworth Quotes

  • ''some little plan or chart,
    Some fragment from his dream of human life,
    Shaped by himself with newly-learned art;''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 90-92). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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  • ''She seemed a thing that could not feel
    The touch of earthly years.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. V. A slumber did my spirit seal (l. 3-4). . ; from LUCY The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''let the young Lambs bound
    As to the tabor's sound!''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 169-170). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''A simple child,
    That lightly draws its breath,
    And feels its life in every limb,
    What should it know of death?''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. We Are Seven (l. 1-4). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''As if his whole vocation
    Were endless imitation.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 106-107). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • '''But they are dead; those two are dead!
    Their spirits are in heaven!'
    'Twas throwing words away; for still
    The little maid would have her will,
    And said, 'Nay, we are seven!'''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. We Are Seven (l. 65-69). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''The things which I have seen I now can see no more.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 9). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''When men change swords for ledgers, and desert
    The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed
    I had, my Country—am I to be blamed?''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. When I Have Borne in Memory (l. 3-5). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''Those shadowy recollections,
    Which, be they what they may,
    Are yet the fountain light of all our day,
    Are yet a master light of all our seeing;''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 149-152). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Where Lies the Land to Which Yon Ship Must Go? (L. 1). . . 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)

Stanzas

WITHIN our happy castle there dwelt One
Whom without blame I may not overlook;
For never sun on living creature shone
Who more devout enjoyment with us took:
Here on his hours he hung as on a book,
On his own time here would he float away,
As doth a fly upon a summer brook;
But go tomorrow, or belike today,
Seek for him,---he is fled; and whither none can say.

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