Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees. William Wordsworth More Quotes by William Wordsworth More Quotes From William Wordsworth Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me. William Wordsworth lonelylonelinessbook Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, 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 lonelylonelinesssleep With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars. William Wordsworth restlessboredomstars Me this uncharted 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. William Wordsworth namesdesirelong 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. William Wordsworth victory-and-defeatenergyprinciples The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears. William Wordsworth growthtearsmother Of all that is most beauteous, imaged there In happier beauty; more pellucid streams, An ampler ether, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams. William Wordsworth gleamairbeauty Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again. William Wordsworth painsorrowloss And mighty poets in their misery dead. William Wordsworth miserypoetdeath Imagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality. William Wordsworth imaginationmeanreality Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality. William Wordsworth immortalityproofideas Even thus last night, and two nights more I lay, William Wordsworth motherdreammorning Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride. William Wordsworth pridehandsart The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. William Wordsworth passed-awaysunshineearth Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can. William Wordsworth simplicitysimpleshould 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. William Wordsworth heartsweetmemories In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . . William Wordsworth flowersweetbird O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice? William Wordsworth cuckoosvoicebird And what if thou, sweet May, hast known William Wordsworth expectationssightsweet Meek Walton's heavenly memory. William Wordsworth heavenlymeekmemories
