Quotes
Quotes - Wordsworth
A light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove.
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
The confidence of reason give,
And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!
The light that never was, on sea or land;
The consecration, and the Poet's dream.
Shalt show us how divine a thing
A woman may be made.
But an old age serene and bright,
And lovely as a Lapland night,
Shall lead thee to thy grave.
Where the statue stood
Of Newton, with his prism and silent face,
The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone.
Another morn
Risen on mid-noon.
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven!
The budding rose above the rose full blown.
There is
One great society alone on earth:
The noble living and the noble dead.
Who, doomed to go in company with Pain
And Fear and Bloodshed,--miserable train!--
Turns his necessity to glorious gain.
Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves
Of their bad influence, and their good receives.
But who, if he be called upon to face
Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined
Great issues, good or bad for humankind,
Is happy as a lover.
And through the heat of conflict keeps the law
In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
Whom neither shape of danger can dismay,
Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
Like,--but oh how different!
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours.
Great God! I 'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn,
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Maidens withering on the stalk.
Sweetest melodies
Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
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.
The gentle Lady married to the Moor,
And heavenly Una with her milk-white lamb.
Blessings be with them, and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!--
The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.
A power is passing from the earth.
The rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the rose.
