Quotes from William Wordsworth

Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man.

Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.

Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.

Nature never did betrayThe heart that loved her.

How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.

Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.

Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.

Great God! I'd rather be a Pagan.

The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will; Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.

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.

Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.

Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.

Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!

But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.

Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.

And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.

Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride.

We have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, And overspread the future years with hope.

We live by admiration, hope and love.

Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.

Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!

But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.