William Wordsworth

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William Wordsworth (April 7, 1770 – April 23, 1850) was a major English poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, launched the Romantic Age in English literature with the 1798 publication of Lyrical Ballads.

Contents 1 Sourced 1.1 Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey (1798) 1.2 The Prelude (1799-1805) 1.3 Lyrical Ballads (1800) 1.4 Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803) 1.5 She Was a Phantom of Delight (aka Perfect Woman) (1804) 1.6 I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud (1804) 1.7 Ode to Duty (1805) 1.8 Character of the Happy Warrior (1806) 1.9 Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (1807) 1.10 The Excursion (1814) 1.11 Ecclesiastical Sonnets (1821) 2 Attributed 3 External links

Sourced

• And homeless near a thousand homes I stood,
  And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.
  • Guilt and Sorrow, st. 41 (1791-1794)

• — A simple child,
  That lightly draws its breath,
  And feels its life in every limb,
  What should it know of death?
  • We Are Seven, st. 1 (1798)

• Have I not reason to lament
  What man has made of man?
  • Lines Written in Early Spring, st. 6 (1798)

• Nor less I deem that there are Powers
  Which of themselves our minds impress;
  That we can feed this mind of ours
  In a wise passiveness.
  • Expostulation and Reply, st. 6 (1798)

• Come forth into the light of things,
  Let Nature be your teacher.
  • The Tables Turned, st. 4 (1798)

• One impulse from a vernal wood
  May teach you more of man,
  Of moral evil and of good,
  Than all the sages can.
  • The Tables Turned, st. 6 (1798)

• There's something in a flying horse,
  There's something in a huge balloon;
  But through the clouds I'll never float
  Until I have a little Boat,
  Shaped like the crescent-moon.
  • Peter Bell, Prologue, st. 1 (1798)

• A primrose by a river's brim
  A yellow primrose was to him,
  And it was nothing more.
  • Peter Bell, Pt. I, st. 12 (1798)

• O Reader! had you in your mind
  Such stores as silent thought can bring,
  O gentle Reader! you would find
  A tale in everything.
  • Simon Lee, st. 9 (1798)

• I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
  With coldness still returning;
  Alas! the gratitude of men
  Hath oftener left me mourning.
  • Simon Lee, st. 12 (1798)

• The eye— it cannot choose but see;
  we cannot bid the ear be still;
  our bodies feel, where'er they be,
  against or with our will.
  • Expostulation and Reply, st. 5 (1798)

• I traveled among unknown men,
  In lands beyond the sea;
  Nor, England! did I know till then
  What love I bore to thee.
  • I Traveled Among Unknown Men, st. 1 (1799)

• What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
  Into a lover's head!
  "O mercy!" to myself I cried,
  "If Lucy should be dead!"
  • Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known, st. 7 (1799)

• * She dwelt among the untrodden ways
  Beside the springs of Dove,
  A maid whom there were none to praise
  And very few to love:
  • She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways, st. 1 (1799)

• She lived unknown, and few could know
  When Lucy ceased to be;
  But she is in her grave, and, oh,
  The difference to me!
  • She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways, st. 3 (1799)

• Three years she grew in sun and shower,
  Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower
  On earth was never sown;
  This Child I to myself will take;
  She shall be mine, and I will make
  A Lady of my own."
  • Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower, st. 1 (1799)

• A slumber did my spirit seal;
  I had no human fears:
  She seemed a thing that could not feel
  The touch of earthly years.
  
  No motion has she now, no force;
  She neither hears nor sees;
  Rolled round in earth's diurnal course,
  With rocks, and stones, and trees.
  • A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal (1799)

• A fingering slave,
  One that would peep and botanize
  Upon his mother's grave.
  • A Poet's Epitaph, st. 5 (1799)

• A reasoning, self-sufficing thing,
  An intellectual All-in-all!
  • A Poet's Epitaph, st. 8 (1799)

• And you must love him, ere to you
  He will seem worthy of your love.
  • A Poet's Epitaph, st. 11 (1799)

• The sweetest thing that ever grew
  Beside a human door!
  • Lucy Gray, or Solitude, st. 2 (1799)

• And sings a solitary song
  That whistles in the wind.
  • Lucy Gray, or Solitude, st. 16 (1799)

• A youth to whom was given
  So much of earth—so much of heaven,
  And such impetuous blood.
  • Ruth, st. 21 (1799)

• My eyes are dim with childish tears,
  My heart is idly stirred,
  For the same sound is in my ears
  Which in those days I heard.
  • The Fountain, st. 8 (1799)

• Something between a hindrance and a help.
  • Michael. A Pastoral Poem, l. 189 (1800)

• Drink, pretty creature, drink!
  • The Pet Lamb. A Pastoral, st. 1 (1800)

• May no rude hand deface it,
  And its forlorn Hic jacet!
  • Ellen Irwin, or the Braes of Kirtle, st. 7 (1800)

• Much converse do I find in thee,
  Historian of my infancy!
  Float near me; do not yet depart!
  Dead times revive in thee:
  Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
  A solemn image to my heart.
  • To a Butterfly (Stay Near Me), st. 1 (1801)

• Behold, within the leafy shade,
  Those bright blue eggs together laid!
  On me the chance-discovered sight
  Gleamed like a vision of delight.
  • The Sparrow's Nest, st. 1 (1801)

• She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
  And humble cares,and delicate fears;
  A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;
  And love, and thought, and joy.
  • The Sparrow's Nest, st. 2 (1801)

• Sweet childish days, that were as long
  As twenty days are now.
  • To a Butterfly (I've Watched You Now a Full Half-Hour), st. 2 (1801)

• Like an army defeated
  The snow hath retreated,
  And now doth fare ill
  On the top of the bare hill;
  The Ploughboy is whooping— anon— anon!
  There's joy in the mountains:
  There's life in the fountains;
  Small clouds are sailing,
  Blue sky prevailing;
  The rain is over and gone.
  • Written in March, st. 2 (1801)

• My heart leaps up when I behold
  A rainbow in the sky:
  So was it when my life began;
  So is it now I am a man;
  So be it when I shall grow old,
  Or let me die!
  The Child is father of the Man;
  I could wish my days to be
  Bound each to each by natural piety.
  • My Heart Leaps Up When I Behold, (1802)
  • The last three lines of this form the introductory lines of the long Ode: Intimations of Immortality begun the next day.

• Earth has not anything to show more fair:
  Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
  A sight so touching in its majesty:
  This City now doth, like a garment, wear
  The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
  Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie
  Open unto the fields and to the sky;
  All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
  • Composed upon Westminster Bridge, Sept. 3, 1802, l. 1 (1802)

• 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!
  • Composed upon Westminster Bridge, Sept. 3, 1802, l. 11 (1802)

• Plain living and high thinking are no more:
  The homely beauty of the good old cause
  Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence,
  And pure religion breathing household laws.
  • Written in London, September 1802, l. 11 (1802)

• O for a single hour of that Dundee,
  Who on that day the word of onset gave!
  • Sonnet. In the Pass of Killicranky, l. 11 (1803)

• Pleasures newly found are sweet
  When they lie about our feet.
  • To the Same Flower (the Small Celandine), st. 1 (1803)

• Every gift of noble origin
  Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.
  • These Times strike Monied Worldlings, l. 1 (1803)

• Hail to thee, far above the rest
  In joy of voice and pinion!
  Thou, linnet! in thy green array,
  Presiding spirit here to-day,
  Dost lead the revels of the May;
  And this is thy dominion.
  • The Green Linnet, st. 2 (1803)

• Lady of the Mere,
  Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
  • A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and Crags, l. 37 (1803)

• There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
  Which to this day stands single, in the midst
  Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.
  • Yew-Trees, l. 1 (1803)

• Of vast circumference and gloom profound,
  This solitary Tree! A living thing
  Produced too slowly ever to decay;
  Of form and aspect too magnificent
  To be destroyed.
  • Yew-Trees, l. 9 (1803)

• Bright flower! whose home is everywhere
  Bold in maternal nature's care
  And all the long year through the heir
  Of joy or sorrow,
  Methinks that there abides in thee
  Some concord with humanity,
  Given to no other flower I see
  The forest through.
  • To the Daisy (third poem), st. 1 (1803)

• O Blithe newcomer! I have heard,
  I hear thee and rejoice.
  O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
  Or but a wandering Voice?
  • To the Cuckoo, st. 1 (1804)

• No bird, but an invisible thing,
  A voice, a mystery.
  • To the Cuckoo, st. 4 (1804)

• Thou unassuming Common-place
  Of Nature, with that homely face,
  And yet with something of a grace,
  Which Love makes for thee!
  • To the Same Flower (the Daisy), st. 1 (1805)

• Oft on the dappled turf at ease
  I sit, and play with similes,
  Loose types of things through all degrees.
  • To the Same Flower (the Daisy), st. 2 (1805)

• The light that never was, on sea or land,
  The consecration, and the poet's dream.
  • Elegiac Stanzas. Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm, st. 4 (1805)

• Dear Child of Nature, let them rail!
  • To a Young Lady, st. 1 (1805)

• Thou, while thy babes around thee cling,
  Shalt show us how divine a thing
  A Woman may be made.
  • To a Young Lady, st. 2 (1805)

• But an old age serene and bright,
  And lovely as a Lapland night,
  Shall lead thee to thy grave.
  • To a Young Lady, st. 3 (1805)

• Happier of happy though I be, like them
  I cannot take possession of the sky,
  Mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there
  One of a mighty multitude whose way
  Is a perpetual harmony and dance
  Magnificent.
  • The Recluse, l. 198 (1805)

• She hath smiles to earth unknown—
  Smiles that with motion of their own
  Do spread, and sink, and rise.
  • Cancelled lines originally in the second stanza of Louisa (1805)

• Like—but oh, how different!
  • Yes, It Was the Mountain Echo, st. 2 (1806)

• In truth the prison, unto which we doom
  Ourselves, no prison is.
  • Nuns Fret Not, l. 8 (1806)

• 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;
  We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
  • The World Is Too Much with Us, l. 1 (1806)

• 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 wreathèd horn.
  • The World Is Too Much with Us, l. 9 (1806)

• Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?
  Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,
  Festively she puts forth in trim array.
  • Where Lies the Land, l. 1 (1806)

• Come, blessed barrier between day and day,
  Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
  • To Sleep (A Flock of Sheep), l. 13 (1806)

• 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.
  • Personal Talk, sonnet 3 (1806)

• 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.
  • The World is Too Much With Us, l. 1 (1806)

• Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished.
  • Letter to Lady Beaumont (May 21, 1807)

• 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.
  • Resolution and Independence, st. 7 (1807)

• Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach
  Of ordinary men.
  • Resolution and Independence, st. 14 (1807)

• And mighty poets in their misery dead.
  • Resolution and Independence, st. 17 (1807)

• It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
  The holy time is quiet as a Nun
  Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
  Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
  The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea.
  • It Is a Beautious Evening, l. 1 (1807)

• Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;
  And worship'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
  God being with thee when we know it not.
  • It Is a Beautious Evening, l. 12 (1807)

• Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee;
  And was the safeguard of the west: the worth
  Of Venice did not fall below her birth,
  Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty.
  • On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic, l. 1 (1807)

• Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade
  Of that which once was great, is passed away.
  • On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic, l. 13 (1807)

• Thou hast great allies;
  Thy friends are exultations, agonies,
  And love, and man's unconquerable mind.
  • To Toussaint L'Ouverture, l. 12 (1807)

• Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour:
  England hath need of thee: she is a fen
  Of stagnant waters.
  • London, 1802, l. 1 (1807)

• Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart:
  Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
  Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
  So didst thou travel on life's common way,
  In cheerful godliness.
  • London, 1802, l. 9 (1807)

• We must be free or die, who speak the tongue
  That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold
  Which Milton held.
  • It Is Not to Be Thought Of, l. 11 (1807)

• He sang of love, with quiet blending,
  Slow to begin, and never ending;
  Of serious faith, and inward glee;
  That was the song,— the song for me!
  • O Nightingale! Thou Surely Art, l. 17 (1807)

• Two Voices are there; one is of the sea,
  One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice.
  • Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland, l. 1 (1807)

• Love had he found in huts where poor men lie;
  His daily teachers had been woods and rills,
  The silence that is in the starry sky,
  The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
  • Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle, l. 161 (1807)

• Action is transitory — a step, a blow—
  The motion of a muscle— this way or that—
  'Tis done; and in the after-vacancy
  We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed.
  • The White Doe of Rylstone, l. 1 (1807)

• A few strong instincts and a few plain rules,
  Among the herdsmen of the Alps, have wrought
  More for mankind at this unhappy day
  Then all the pride of intellect and thought?
  • Alas! What Boots the Long Laborious Quest?, l. 11 (1809)

• A cheerful life is what the Muses love,
  A soaring spirit is their prime delight.
  • From the Dark Chambers of Dejection Freed, l. 13 (1814)

• For the gods approve
  The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
  • Laodamia, st. 13 (1814)

• Mightier far
  Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway
  Of magic potent over sun and star,
  Is Love, though oft to agony distrest,
  And though his favorite seat be feeble woman's breast.
  • Laodamia, st. 14 (1814)

• But shapes that come not at an earthly call,
  Will not depart when mortal voices bid.
  • Dion, st. 5 (1814)

• Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind.
  • Surprised by Joy, l. 1 (1815)

• And beauty, for confiding youth,
  Those shocks of passion can prepare
  That kill the bloom before its time;
  And blanch, without the owner's crime,
  The most resplendent hair.
  • Lament of Mary Quen of Scots, st. 6 (1817)

• Enough, if something from our hands have power
  To live, and act, and serve the future hour.
  • The River Duddon, sonnet 34 - Afterthought, l. 10 (1820)

• We feel that we are greater than we know.
  • The River Duddon, sonnet 34 - Afterthought, l. 14 (1820)

• Lives there a man whose sole delights
  Are trivial pomp and city noise,
  Hardening a heart that loathes or slights
  What every natural heart enjoys?
  • To the Lady Fleming, st. 6 (1823)

• A soul so pitiably forlorn,
  If such do on this earth abide,
  May season apathy with scorn,
  May turn indifference to pride;
  And still be not unblest— compared
  With him who grovels, self-debarred
  From all that lies within the scope
  Of holy faith and christian hope;
  Or, shipwrecked, kindles on the coast
  False fires, that others may be lost.
  • To the Lady Fleming, st. 7 (1823)

• But hushed be every thought that springs
  From out the bitterness of things.
  • Elegiac Stanzas. Addressed to Sir G.H.B., st. 7 (1824)

• True beauty dwells in deep retreats,
  Whose veil is unremoved
  Till heart with heart in concord beats,
  And the lover is beloved.
  • To ____ . (Let other Bards of Angels sing), st. 3 (1824)

• Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
  True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!
  • To a Skylark, st. 2 (1825)

• Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned,
  Mindless of its just honours; with this key
  Shakespeare unlocked his heart
  • Scorn Not the Sonnet, l. 1 (1827)

• Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower
  Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour
  Have passed away; less happy than the one
  That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove
  The tender charm of poetry and love.
  • Poems Composed or Suggested During a Tour in the Summer of 1833, "There!" said a Stripling, l. 10 (1833)

• Small service is true service while it lasts.
  Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one:
  The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,
  Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.
  • To a Child. Written in her Album (1834)

• How does the Meadow-flower its bloom unfold?
  Because the lovely little flower is free
  Down to its root, and, in that freedom, bold.
  • A Poet!—He Hath Put His Heart to School, l. 9 (1842)

• Minds that have nothing to confer
  Find little to perceive.
  • Yes, Thou art Fair, Yet Be Not Moved, st. 2 (1845)

Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey (1798)

On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye During a Tour, July 13, 1798

• Five years have passed; five summers, with the length
  Of five long winters! and again I hear
  These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
  With a sweet inland murmur. —Once again
  Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
  Which on a wild secluded scene impress
  Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
  The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
  • Stanza 1

• These beauteous forms,
  Through a long absence, have not been to me
  As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
  But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
  Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
  In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
  Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
  And passing even into my purer mind,
  With tranquil restoration: —feelings too
  Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
  As have no slight or trivial influence
  On that best portion of a good man's life,
  His little, nameless, unremembered acts
  Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
  To them I may have owed another gift,
  Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
  In which the burthen of the mystery,
  In which the heavy and the weary weight
  Of all this unintelligible world
  Is lighten'd:— that serene and blessed mood,
  In which the affections gently lead us on,—
  Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
  And even the motion of our human blood
  Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
  In body, and become a living soul:
  While with an eye made quiet by the power
  Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
  We see into the life of things.
  • Stanza 2

• O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
  How often has my spirit turned to thee!
  • Stanza 3

• And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
  With many recognitions dim and faint,
  And somewhat of a sad perplexity,
  The picture of the mind revives again:
  While here I stand, not only with the sense
  Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
  That in this moment there is life and food
  For future years. And so I dare to hope,
  Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
  I came among these hills;
  • Stanza 3

• For nature then
  (The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
  And their glad animal movements all gone by)
  To me was all in all.— I cannot paint
  What then I was.
  • Stanza 3

• The sounding cataract
  Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
  The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
  Their colours and their forms, were then to me
  An appetite; a feeling and a love,
  That had no need of a remoter charm,
  By thought supplied, nor any interest
  Unborrowed from the eye.
  • Stanza 3

• That time is past,
  And all its aching joys are now no more,
  And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
  Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
  Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
  Abundant recompence. For I have learned
  To look on nature, not as in the hour
  Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
  The still, sad music of humanity,
  Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
  To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
  A presence that disturbs me with the joy
  Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
  Of something far more deeply interfused,
  Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
  And the round ocean and the living air,
  And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
  A motion and a spirit, that impels
  All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
  And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
  A lover of the meadows and the woods,
  And mountains; and of all that we behold
  From this green earth; of all the mighty world
  Of eye, and ear,—both what they half create,
  And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
  In nature and the language of the sense,
  The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
  The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
  Of all my moral being.
  • Stanza 3

• Nor, perchance,
  If I were not thus taught, Should I the more
  Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
  For thou art with me here upon the banks
  Of this fair river; thou, my dearest Friend,
  My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
  The language of my former heart, and read
  My former pleasures in the shooting lights
  Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
  May I behold in thee what I was once,
  My dear, dear Sister! And this prayer I make,
  Knowing that Nature never did betray
  The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
  Through all the years of this our life, to lead
  From joy to joy: for she can so inform
  The mind that is within us, so impress
  With quietness and beauty, and so feed
  With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
  Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
  Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
  The dreary intercourse of daily life,
  Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
  Our cheerful faith that all which we behold
  Is full of blessings.
  • Stanza 4

• If I should be, where I no more can hear
  Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
  Of past existence, wilt thou then forget
  That on the banks of this delightful stream
  We stood together; And that I, so long
  A worshipper of Nature, hither came,
  Unwearied in that service: rather say
  With warmer love, oh! with far deeper zeal
  Of holier love. Now wilt thou then forget,
  That after many wanderings, many years
  Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
  And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
  More dear, both for themselves, and for thy sake.
  • Stanza 4

The Prelude (1799-1805)

• Fair seedtime had my soul, and I grew up
  Fostered alike by beauty and by fear.
  • Bk. I, l. 301

• Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows
  Like harmony in music; there is a dark
  Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles
  Discordant elements, makes them cling together
  In one society.
  • Bk. I, l. 340

• The grim shape
  Towered up between me and the stars, and still,
  For so it seemed, with purpose of its own
  And measured motion like a living thing,
  Strode after me.
  • Bk. I, l. 381

• Where the statue stood
  Of Newton with his prism and silent face,
  The marble index of a mind forever
  The marble index of a mind forever
  Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.
  • Bk. III, l. 60

• When from our better selves we have too long
  Been parted by the hurrying world, and droop,
  Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired,
  How gracious, how benign, is Solitude.
  • Bk. IV, l. 354

• Whether we be young or old,
  Our destiny, our being's heart and home,
  Is with infinitude, and only there;
  With hope it is, hope that can never die,
  Effort and expectation, and desire,
  And something evermore about to be.
  • Bk. VI, l. 603

• Brothers all
  In honor, as in one community,
  Scholars and gentlemen.
  • Bk. IX, l. 227

• Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
  But to be young was very heaven!
  • Bk. XI, l. 108

• There is
  One great society alone on earth:
  The noble Living and the noble Dead.
  • Bk. XI, l. 393

Lyrical Ballads (1800)

• Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science.
  • Preface

• In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs—in spite of things silently gone out of mind, and things violently destroyed, the Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth, and over all time.
  • Preface

• I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
  • Preface

Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)

• Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven
  This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven;
  The rueful conflict, the heart riven
  With vain endeavour,
  And memory of earth's bitter leaven
  Effaced forever.
  • Thoughts Suggested on the Banks of the Nith, st. 10

• And stepping westward seemed to be
  A kind of heavenly destiny.
  • Stepping Westward, st. 2

• I listened, motionless and still;
  And, as I mounted up the hill,
  The music in my heart I bore,
  Long after it was heard no more.
  • The Solitary Reaper, st. 4

• Yet was Rob Roy as wise as brave;
  Forgive me if the phrase be strong;—
  A Poet worthy of Rob Roy
  Must scorn a timid song.
  • Rob Roy's Grave, st. 3

• Burn all the statutes and their shelves:
  They stir us up against our kind;
  And worse, against ourselves.
  • Rob Roy's Grave, st. 5

• The good old rule
  Sufficeth them, the simple plan,
  That they should take, who have the power,
  And they should keep who can.
  • Rob Roy's Grave, st. 9

• A brotherhood of venerable trees.
  • Sonnet. Composed at ____ Castle, l. 6

• From Stirling Castle we had seen
  The mazy Forth unravelled;
  Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tay,
  And with the Tweed had travelled;
  And when we came to Clovenford,
  Then said "my winsome marrow,"
  "Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside,
  And see the braes of Yarrow."
  • Yarrow Unvisited, st. 1

She Was a Phantom of Delight (aka Perfect Woman) (1804)

• She was a Phantom of delight
  When first she gleamed upon my sight;
  A lovely Apparition, sent
  To be a moment's ornament.
  • Stanza 1

• A Creature not too bright or good
  For human nature's daily food;
  For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
  Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.
  • Stanza 2

• And now I see with eye serene
  The very pulse of the machine.
  • Stanza 3

• A perfect woman, nobly planned,
  To warn, to comfort, and command.
  • Stanza 3

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud (1804)

• 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.
  • Stanza 1

• Continuous as the stars that shine
  And twinkle on the milky way.
  • Stanza 2

• Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
  Tosing their heads in sprightly dance.
  • Stanza 2

• A poet could not but be gay,
  In such a jocund company.
  • Stanza 3

• That inward eye
  Which is the bliss of solitude.
  • Stanza 4

Ode to Duty (1805)

• A light to guide, a rod
  To check the erring, and reprove.
  • Stanza 1

• Me this unchartered freedom tires;
  I feel the weight of chance-desires:
  My hopes no more must change their name,
  I long for a repose that ever is the same.
  • Stanza 5

• Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong;
  And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
  • Stanza 6

• 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!
  • Stanza 7

Character of the Happy Warrior (1806)

• Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he
  That every man in arms should wish to be?
  • Line 1

• Who, doomed to go in company with Pain,
  And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train!
  Turns his necessity to glorious gain.
  • Line 12

• More skillful in self-knowledge, even more pure,
  As tempted more; more able to endure,
  As more exposed to suffering and distress.
  • Line 23

• But who, if he be called upon to face
  Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined
  Great issues, good or bad for human kind,
  Is happy as a Lover.
  • Line 48

• And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law
  In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
  • Line 53

• Whom neither shape of danger can dismay,
  Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
  • Line 72

Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (1807)

Begun on March 27, 1802 and finished by 1806, possibly in early 1804. Wordsworth declared: "Two years at least passed between the writing of the four first stanzas and the remaining part."

• There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
  The earth, and every common sight,
  To me did seem
  Apparelled in celestial light,
  The glory and the freshness of a dream.
  It is not now as it hath been of yore—
  Turn wheresoe'er I may,
  By night or day,
  The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
  • Stanza 1

• The Rainbow comes and goes,
  And lovely is the Rose,
  The Moon doth with delight
  Look round her when the heavens are bare;
  Waters on a starry night
  Are beautiful and fair;
  The sunshine is a glorious birth;
  But yet I know, where'er I go,
  That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
  • Stanza 2

• Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call
  Ye to each other make; I see
  The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
  My heart is at your festival,
  My head hath its coronal,
  The fulness of your bliss, I feel— I feel it all.
  Oh evil day! if I were sullen
  While the Earth herself is adorning,
  This sweet May-morning.
  • Stanza 4

• Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
  Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
  • Stanza 4

• Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
  The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
  Hath had elsewhere its setting,
  And cometh from afar:
  Not in entire forgetfulness,
  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
  Upon the growing boy.
  • Stanza 5

• The youth, who daily farther from the east
  Must travel, still is Nature's priest,
  And by the vision splendid
  Is on his way attended;
  At length the man perceives it die away,
  And fade into the light of common day.
  • Stanza 5

• As if his whole vocation
  Were endless imitation.
  • Stanza 7

• Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie
  Thy Soul's immensity;
  Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep
  Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,
  That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep,
  Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,—
  Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!
  On whom those truths do rest,
  Which we are toiling all our lives to find,
  In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave.
  • Stanza 8

• O joy! that in our embers
  Is something that doth live,
  That nature yet remembers
  What was so fugitive!
  The thought of our past years in me doth breed
  Perpetual benediction: not indeed
  For that which is most worthy to be blest;
  Delight and liberty, the simple creed
  Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,
  With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:—
  Not for these I raise
  The song of thanks and praise;
  But for those obstinate questionings
  Of sense and outward things,
  Fallings from us, vanishings;
  Blank misgivings of a Creature
  Moving about in worlds not realised,
  High instincts before which our mortal Nature
  Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised:
  But for those first affections,
  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;
  Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
  Our noisy years seem moments in the being
  Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake,
  To perish never;
  Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor,
  Nor Man nor Boy,
  Nor all that is at enmity with joy,
  Can utterly abolish or destroy!
  • Stanza 9

• Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
  And let the young Lambs bound
  As to the tabor's sound!
  We in thought will join your throng,
  Ye that pipe and ye that play,
  Ye that through your hearts today
  Feel the gladness of the May!
  What though the radiance which was once so bright
  Be now forever taken from my sight,
  Though nothing can bring back the hour
  Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
  We will grieve not, rather find
  Strength in what remains behind;
  In the primal sympathy
  Which having been must ever be;
  In the soothing thoughts that spring
  Out of human suffering;
  In the faith that looks through death,
  In years that bring the philosophic mind.
  • Stanza 10

• And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves,
  Forebode not any severing of our loves!
  Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;
  I only have relinquished one delight
  To live beneath your more habitual sway.
  I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
  Even more than when I tripped lightly as they;
  The innocent brightness of a new-born Day
  Is lovely yet;
  The Clouds that gather round the setting sun
  Do take a sober colouring from an eye
  That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
  Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
  Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
  Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
  To me the meanest flower that blows can give
  Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
  • Stanza 11

The Excursion (1814)

• Strongest minds
  Are often those of whom the noisy world
  Hears least.
  • Book I - The Wanderer, l. 91

• The imperfect offices of prayer and praise.
  • Book I - The Wanderer, l. 216

• The good die first,
  And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust
  Burn to the socket.
  • Book I - The Wanderer, l. 500

• Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop
  Than when we soar.
  • Book III - Despondency, l. 231

• Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
  • Book III - Despondency, l. 374

• The intellectual power, through words and things,
  Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!
  • Book III - Despondency, l. 700
  • Variant: Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
    Through words and things, a dim and perilous way. - Borderers, written 18 years before Excursion

• Society became my glittering bride.
  • Book III - Despondency, l. 735

• There is a luxury in self-dispraise;
  And inward self-disparagement affords
  To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
  • Book IV - Despondency Corrected, l. 475

• I have seen
  A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract
  Of inland ground, applying to his ear
  The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell;
  To which, in silence hushed, his very soul
  Listened intensely; and his countenance soon
  Brightened with joy; for from within were heard
  Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed
  Mysterious union with its native sea.
  • Book IV - Despondency Corrected, l. 1132

• One in whom persuasion and belief
  Had ripened into faith, and faith become
  A passionate intuition.
  • Book IV - Despondency Corrected, l. 1293

• Spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."
  • Book VI - The Churchyard among the Mountains, l. 19

• A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays
  And confident tomorrows.
  • Book VII - The Churchyard among the Mountains, cont., l. 557

Ecclesiastical Sonnets (1821)

• As thou these ashes, little brook! will bear
  Into the Avon, Avon to the tide
  Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas,
  Into main ocean they, this deed accurst,
  An emblem yields to friends and enemies
  How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified
  By truth, shall spread throughout the world dispersed.
  • Part II, No. 17 - Wicliffe

• Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
  • Part II, No. 28 - Reflections

• The feather, whence the pen
  Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
  Dropped from an Angel's wing.
  • Part III, No. 5 - Walton's Book of Lives

• Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore
  Of nicely calculated less or more.
  • Part III, No. 43 - Inside of King's College Chapel, Cambridge

Attributed

• A day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.

• A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.

• All good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity.

• Be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer.

• Faith is a passionate intuition.

• Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.

• For by superior energies; more strict affiance in each other; faith more firm in their unhallowed principles, the bad have fairly earned a victory over the weak, the vacillating, inconsistent good.

• Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-calculated less or more.

• Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.

• Hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.

• Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.

• How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

• How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.

• Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams.

• In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.

• In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.

• Is there not an art, a music, and a stream of words that shalt be life, the acknowledged voice of life?

• Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present to live better in the future.

• Life's cares are comforts; such by heaven design'd He that has none, must make them or be wretched.

• Lost in a gloom of uninspired research.

• Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

• Neither evil tongues, rash judgements, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary intercourse of daily life, shall e'er prevail against us.

• No motion has she now, no force; she neither hears nor sees; rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.

• Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.

• One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.

• Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.

• Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more.

• She seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years.

• Small service is true service, while it lasts.

• That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

• That blessed mood in which the burthen of the mystery, in which the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world is lightened.

• That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

• The child is the father of the man.

• The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.

• The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants; and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.

• The mind that is wise mourns less for what age takes away; than what it leaves behind.

• The ocean is a mighty harmonist.

• The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions.

• The wiser mind, mourns less for what age takes away, than what it leaves behind

• These feeble and fastidious times.

• Thought and theory must precede all salutary action; yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.

• To begin, begin.

• We live by admiration, hope and love.

• We take no note of time But from its loss.

• What is pride? A whizzing rocket that would emulate a star.

• What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.

• Wild is the music of autumnal winds
  Amongst the faded woods.

• With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.

External links

• Complete Intimations of Immortality at Wikisource
• Selected Poetry at The University of Toronto
• Selected Poetry of William Wordsworth at Poetseers
• Complete Poetical Works at Bartleby
• Works by William Wordsworth at Project Gutenbergfr:William Wordsworth

pt:William Wordsworth