Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
"William Wordsworth" was a major English Romantic poetry/Romantic poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, helped to launch the Romanticism/Romantic Age in English literature with their joint publication Lyrical Ballads (1798).
Wordsworth's masterpiece/magnum opus is generally considered to be The Prelude, a semiautobiographical poem of his early years that he revised and expanded a number of times. It was posthumously titled and published, before which it was generally known as "the poem to Coleridge". Wordsworth was Britain's Poet Laureate from 1843 until his death in 1850.
If you enjoy these quotes, be sure to check out other famous poets! More William Wordsworth on Wikipedia.To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
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.
Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none;Look up a second time, and, one by one,You mark them twinkling out with silvery light,And wonder how they could elude the sight!
We have within ourselvesEnough to fill the present day with joy,And overspread the future years with hope.
Wisdom and spirit of the Universe! Thou soul is the eternity of thought! That giv'st to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion! Not in vain By day or star-light thus from by first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul, Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects, with enduring things.
She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament.
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!
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
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.
My heart leaps up when I beholdA rainbow in the sky.
The silence that is in the starry sky,The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
What though the radiance which was once so bright Be not forever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;Grief 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.
A mind forever voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.
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