William Wordsworth

(1770-1850 / Cumberland / England)

William Wordsworth Quotes

  • ''Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Elegiac Stanzas (l. 60). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
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  • '''How is it that you live, and what is it you do?'''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Resolution and Independence (l. 119). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''The light that never was, on sea or land,
    The consecration, and the Poet's dream;''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Elegiac Stanzas (l. 15-16). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach
    Of ordinary men; a stately speech;
    Such as grave livers do in Scotland use,''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Resolution and Independence (l. 95-97). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''A deep distress hath humanized my Soul.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Elegiac Stanzas (l. 36). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Resolution and Independence (l. 56). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''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.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg (l. 17-20). . . The Poems; Vol. 2 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1989) Penguin Books.
  • ''I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy,
    The sleepless soul that perished in his pride;
    Of him who walked in glory and in joy
    Following his plough, along the mountain side:
    By our own spirits are we deified:
    We poets in our youth begin in gladness;
    But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Resolution and Independence (l. 43-49). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.
  • ''Our haughty life is crowned with darkness,
    Like London with its own black wreath,''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg (l. 29-30). . . The Poems; Vol. 2 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1989) Penguin Books.
  • ''But how can he expect that others should
    Build for him, sow for him, and at his call
    Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?''
    William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Resolution and Independence (l. 40-42). . . 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)

The Trosachs

THERE 's not a nook within this solemn Pass,
   But were an apt confessional for one
   Taught by his summer spent, his autumn gone,
That Life is but a tale of morning grass
Wither'd at eve. From scenes of art which chase
   That thought away, turn, and with watchful eyes
   Feed it 'mid Nature's old felicities,
Rocks, rivers, and smooth lakes more clear than glass
Untouch'd, unbreathed upon. Thrice happy quest,

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