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Quotes by S. Wordsworth
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.— filed under Moderation
Friendship. Action is transitory, a step, a blow, The motion of a muscle-this way or that.— filed under Action
But an old age serene and bright, And lovely as a Lapland night, Shall lead thee to thy grave.— filed under Ambition
The monumental pomp of age Was with this goodly Personage; A stature undepressed in size, Unbent, which rather seemed to rise In open victory o'er the weight Of seventy years, to loftier height.— filed under Ambition
Thus fares it still in our decay, And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind.— filed under Ambition
C. A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer's joy.— filed under Ballads
Resolution. Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays; A face o'er which a thousand shadows go!— filed under Beauty
And beauty born of murmuring sound.— filed under Beauty
Sun and Shower. Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive, though a happy place.— filed under Beauty
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair, Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn.— filed under Beauty
Delight. True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.— filed under Beauty
When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies. Sonnet. CXXXVIII. There littleness was not; the least of things Seemed infinite; and there his spirit shaped Her prospects, nor did he believe, he saw.— filed under Bells
List-'twas the cuckoo-O, with what delight Heard I that voice! and catch it now, though faint, Far off and faint, and melting into air, Yet not to be mistaken. Hark again! Those louder cries give notice that the bird, Although invisible as Echo's self, Is wheeling hitherward.— filed under Birds-Cuckoo
O blithe New-comer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice; O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? C.— filed under Birds-Cuckoo
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say His homely tale, this very day; His voice was buried among trees, Yet to be come at by the breeze: He did not cease; but cooed-and cooed; And somewhat pensively he wooed: 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!— filed under Birds-Dove
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground? Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still!— filed under Birds-Lark
Imagination. To a Skylark. Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine : Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine: Type of the wise who soar, but never roam: True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!— filed under Birds-Lark
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.— filed under Birds-Lark
Tree. Art thou the bird whom Man loves best, The pious bird with the scarlet breast, Our little English Robin; The bird that comes about our doors When autumn winds are sobbing?— filed under Birds-Robin
Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, And at my casement sing, Though it should prove a farewell lay And this our parting spring. * * * * * * Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Come, and my requiem sing, Nor fail to be the harbinger Of everlasting spring.— filed under Birds-Sea Bird
Behold, within the leafy shade, Those bright blue eggs together laid! On me the chance-discovered sight Gleamed like a vision of delight.— filed under Birds-Swallow
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings! He, too, is no mean preacher: Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher.— filed under Birds-Thrush
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years.— filed under Birds-Thrush
Thus the fable tells us, that the wren mounted as high as the eagle, by getting upon his back. 0. Tatler. No. 224. Among the dwellings framed by birds In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little wren's In snugness may compare.— filed under Birthday
Dialogue III. And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains-alas! too few.— filed under Blindness
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very Heaven!— filed under Bliss
That inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude. C.— filed under Bliss
1654. 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.— filed under Bores
Brook! whose society the poet seeks, Intent his wasted spirits to renew; And whom the curious painter doth pursue Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks, And tracks thee dancing down thy waterbreaks.— filed under Candor
"A jolly place," said he, "in times of old! But something ails it now; the spot is curst."— filed under Chaos
As high as we have mounted in delight In our dejection do we sink as low.— filed under Chaos
And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.— filed under Character
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. S.— filed under Character
One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.— filed under Character
The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength and skill.— filed under Character
Delight. Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.— filed under Character
A simple child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death?— filed under Childhood
Sweet childish days, that were as long As twenty days are now.— filed under Childhood
The child is father of the man.— filed under Childhood
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.— filed under Choice
Spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."— filed under Churches
Poems. The Evening Cloud. The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober coloring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.— filed under Clouds
Baldinsville. And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.— filed under Comparisons
up from the Fields, Father. They came with banner, spear, and shield; And it was proved in Bosworth field, Not long the Avenger was withstood- Earth help'd him with the cry of blood. S.— filed under Vii
Virtue and Vice. Conscience. Men who can hear the Decalogue and feel No self-reproach.— filed under Conscience
Jewel. A Man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident to-morrows.— filed under Contention
I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inlaid ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely.— filed under Curiosity
One of those heavenly days that cannot die.— filed under Death
Mary. O, sir! the good die first, And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust Burn to the socket.— filed under Death
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!— filed under Desolation
The fear that kills; And hope that is unwilling to be fed.— filed under Despair
To be a Prodigal's favourite, then, worse truth, A Miser's Pensioner, -behold our lot!— filed under Xviii
The bane of all that dread the Devil!— filed under Dew
Live to explain thy doctrine by thy life. PRIOR TO Dr. Sherlock. On his Practical Discourse Concerning Death. 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.— filed under Doubt
Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream.— filed under Drinking
Drink, pretty creature, drink! C.— filed under Drinking
Abraham Davenport. Last Line. Stern Daughter of the Voice of God.— filed under Easter
The primal duties shine aloft, like stars; The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless Are scattered at the feet of Man, like flowers.— filed under Easter
Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.— filed under Easter
Like but oh! how different!— filed under Economy
And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. Written in Early Spring. Nature's old felicities.— filed under Enjoyment
The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration.— filed under Evening
Song. The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.— filed under Face
Della Mia Mente. A face with gladness overspread! Soft smiles, by human kindness bred!— filed under Face
"But they are dead; those two are dead! Their spirits are in Heaven!" 'Twas throwing words away; for still The little Maid would have her will, And said, "Nay, we are seven!" S.— filed under Faith
Of one in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.— filed under Faith
'Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of Faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.— filed under Faith
Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.— filed under Fancy
Full twenty times was Peter feared, For once that Peter was respected.— filed under Fear
Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.— filed under Festivities
Hope smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of Summer!— filed under Flirting
Flowers on the Top of the Pillars at the Entrance of the Cave. Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises.— filed under Flirting
The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.— filed under Flowers-Anemone
Not War, Nor, etc. There bloomed the strawberry of the wilderness; The trembling eyebright showed her sapphire blue, The thyme her purple, like the blush of Even; And if the breath of some to no caress Invited, forth they peeped so fair to view, All kinds alike seemed favourites of Heaven.— filed under Flowers-Anemone
Flowers. VI. To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.— filed under Flowers-Anemone
Celandine. Chelidonium. Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star; Up and down the heavens they go, Men that keep a mighty rout! I'm as great as they, I trow, Since the day I found thee out, Little Flower!-I'll make a stir, Like a sage astronomer.— filed under Flowers-Camomile
Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet: February last, my heart First at sight of thee was glad; All unheard of as thou art, Thou must needs, I think, have had, Celandine! and long ago, Praise of which I nothing know.— filed under Flowers-Camomile
A host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. S.— filed under Flowers-Daffodil
One in Bloom on Christmas Day. Bright flowers, whose home is everywhere Bold in maternal nature's care And all the long year through the heir Of joy and sorrow, Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other flower I see The forest through.— filed under Flowers-Daisy
The poet's darling. S.— filed under Flowers-Daisy
Thou unassuming Commonplace Of Nature.— filed under Flowers-Daisy
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.— filed under Flowers-Daisy
And leaves of that shy plant, (Her flowers were shed) the lily of the vale. That loves the ground, and from the sun withholds Her pensive beauty, from the breeze her sweets.— filed under Flowers-Lotus
This flower that first appeared as summer's guest Preserves her beauty 'mid autumnal leaves And to her mournful habits fondly cleaves.— filed under Flowers-Lotus
The wild pink crowns the garden wall, And with the flowers are intermingled stones Sparry and bright, rough scatterings of the hills.— filed under Flowers-Papaw
Primrose. A primrose by a river's brim, A yellow primrose was to him, And it was nothing more.— filed under Flowers-Primrose
Primroses, the Spring may love them; Summer knows but little of them.— filed under Flowers-Primrose
The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves; And thus for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives. S.— filed under Flowers-Primrose
The budding rose above the rose full blown.— filed under Flowers-Rose
FLOWERS-SUNFLOWER. 245 Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they But hardier far, once more I see thee bend Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend, Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day, Storms, sallying from the mountain tops, waylay The rising sun, and on the plains descend; Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend Whose zeal outruns his promise!— filed under Flowers-Safflower
Nor will I then thy modest grace forget, Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring, And pensive monitor of fleeting years!— filed under Flowers-Safflower
Fill your lap and fill your bosom; Only spare the strawberry-blossom.— filed under Flowers-Safflower
Thorn. Cratægus. There is a Thorn, -it looks so old, In truth, you'd find it hard to say How it could ever have been young, It looks so old and gray. Not higher than a two years child It stands erect, this aged Thorn; No leaves it has, no prickly points; It is a mass of knotted joints, A wretched thing forlorn. It stands erect, and like a stone With lichens is it overgrown.— filed under Flowers-Thorn
A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star when only one Is shining in the sky.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Untrodden Ways. The violets of five seasons reappear And fade, unseen by any human eye.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Rapaciously we gathered flowery spoils From land and water; lilies of each hue, - Golden and white, that float upon the waves, And court the wind.— filed under Flowers-Woodbine
Methought I saw the footsteps of a throne.— filed under Footsteps
How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free Down to its root, and in that freedom, bold.— filed under Freedom
his Heart to School. We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.— filed under Freedom
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.— filed under Gifts
That every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath— filed under Glory
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!— filed under Glory
I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath often left me mourning. C.— filed under Gratitude
Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade Of that which once was great is passed away.— filed under Grief
Those old credulities, to nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of History.— filed under History
They dreamt not of a perishable home. S.— filed under Honesty
Hopes, what are they?-Beads of morning Strung on slender blades of grass; Or a spider's web adorning In a straight and treacherous pass.— filed under Hope
Is Man A child of hope? Do generations press On generations, without progress made? Halts the individual, ere his hairs be gray, Perforce?— filed under Hope
But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.— filed under Humanity
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.— filed under Humanity
Devout Exercises, and Sonnets. But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?— filed under Ignorance
But thou, that did'st appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.— filed under Imagination
Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither.— filed under Immortality
Sept. 18, 1836. Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.— filed under Influence
Whose powers shed round him in the common strife, Or mild concerns of ordinary life, A constant influence, a peculiar grace.— filed under Ingratitude
Sun-Lands. Isles of the Amazons. Pt. III. St. 41. 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.— filed under Insects-Flea
A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.— filed under Instinct
And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy, because We have been glad of yore.— filed under Joy
Story, 1845. On that best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.— filed under Kisses
Ben Khorat. II. Oh, be wise, Thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads to love.— filed under William, Earl Of Stirling
Lament of the Captive. St. 1. We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love; And, even as these are well and wisely fixed, In dignity of being we ascend.— filed under Life
A remnant of uneasy light.— filed under Light
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. น.— filed under Listening
For 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 favourite seat be feeble woman's breast.— filed under Loyalty
And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left, Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory, images and precious thoughts, That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.— filed under Memory
The vapours linger round the Heights, They melt, and soon must vanish; One hour is theirs, nor more is mine, — Sad thought, which I would banish, But that I know, where'er I go, Thy genuine image, Yarrow! Will dwell with me,-to heighten joy, And cheer my mind in sorrow.— filed under Memory
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.— filed under Mercy
In years that bring the philosophic mind.— filed under Mischief
Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.— filed under Mischief
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.— filed under Months-April
Music. Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.— filed under Name
Soft is the music that would charm forever: The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly,— filed under Name
Sweetest melodies Are those that are by distance made more sweet.— filed under Name
The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.— filed under Name
Where music dwells Lingering, and wandering on as loth to die; Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality.— filed under Name
Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed; render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod!— filed under Nature
And recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.— filed under Nature
As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die!— filed under Nature
Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.— filed under Necessity
Tintern Abbey. One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.— filed under Necessity
The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.— filed under Necessity
in Sun and Shower. The streams with softest sound are flowing, The grass you almost hear it growing, You hear it now, if e'er you can.— filed under Necessity
To the solid ground Of Nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.— filed under Necessity
Bards on Earth. Two Voices are there: one is of the sea, One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice.— filed under Necessity
She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.— filed under Obscurity
OCCUPATIONS-ACTING. 421 She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and oh! The difference to me!— filed under Obscurity
The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising: There are forty feeding like one! S.— filed under Occupations-Alchemy
Killegrew. This dull product of a scoffer's pen.— filed under Occupations-Authorship
Henley. We left the shade: And, ere the stars were visible, had reached A village inn, -our evening resting-place.— filed under Occupations-Hatters
The marble index of a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone. S.— filed under Occupations-Shoemaking
Turning for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold. S.— filed under Oratory
Song XVI. 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.— filed under Passion
For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago.— filed under Patience
Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.— filed under Patience
See MOORE'S Life of Sheridan. Vol. I. Vol. I. P. 55, The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good. men, Dropped from an Angel's wing.— filed under Perception
Coleridge. Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.— filed under Perception
The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.— filed under Pity
Why should not grave Philosophy be styled, Herself, a dreamer of a kindred stock, A dreamer, yet more spiritless and dull?— filed under Pity
The vision and the faculty divine; Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse.— filed under Poetry
Wisdom married to immortal verse.— filed under Poetry
Autumn Song. And, when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains, -alas! too few.— filed under Poets
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!— filed under Poets
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.— filed under Poets
That mighty orb of song, The divine Milton.— filed under Poets
Because the good old rule Sufficeth them, the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.— filed under Power
The intellectual power, though words and things, Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!— filed under Power
We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud And magnify Thy name, Almighty God! But Man is Thy most awful instrument, In working out a pure intent.— filed under Praise
Basket of Sea Mosses. The bells of Rylstone seemed to say, While she sat listening in the shade, With vocal music, "God us ayde!" And all the hills were glad to bear Their part in this effectual prayer.— filed under Prayer
The imperfect offices of prayer and praise.— filed under Prayer
"What is good for a bootless bene?" With these dark words begins my Tale; And their meaning is, whence can comfort spring When Prayer is of no avail?— filed under Prayer
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, Ther said "my winsome marrow," "Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside, And see the braes of Yarrow."— filed under Rights
Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; 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!— filed under Rivers-Thames
Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.— filed under Romance
Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound. C.— filed under Self-Love
There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.— filed under Self-Love
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 dew drop from the Sun.— filed under Service
Scorn not the Sonnet. Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart.— filed under Shakespeare
Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost.— filed under Sickness
No sound is uttered, -but a deep And solemn harmony pervades The hollow vale from steep to steep, And penetrates the glades.— filed under Silence
Evening of Extraordinary Splendour and Beauty. The silence that is in the starry sky.— filed under Silence
The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witching of the soft blue sky!— filed under Singers
Come, gentle sleep! attend thy votary's prayer, And, though death's image, to my couch repair; How sweet, though lifeless, yet with life to lie, And, without dying, O how sweet to die! b. JOHN WOLCOTT (Peter Pindar)- Epigram on Sleep. And to tired limbs and over-busy thoughts, Inviting sleep and soft forgetfulness. C.— filed under Sleep
Policy. Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life.— filed under Sydney Smith-Lady Holland's
miles above Tintern Abbey. Society became my glittering bride,— filed under Sydney Smith-Lady Holland's
There is One great society alone on earth: The noble Living and the noble Dead.— filed under Sydney Smith-Lady Holland's
Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure, - Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.— filed under Solitude
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been and may be again.— filed under Sorrow
318. But who would force the Soul, tilts with a straw Against a Champion cased in adamant.— filed under Sound
Scottish Covenanters. For the Gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.— filed under Sound
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.— filed under Sound
et la Poularde. Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach Of ordinary men.— filed under Spirits
But He is risen, a later star of dawn.— filed under Stars
A tale in everything.— filed under Story-Telling
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books; Or surely you'll grow double: Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks; Why all this toil and trouble?— filed under Students
The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door.— filed under Sweetness
Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees.— filed under Symbols
Tears. Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone. S.— filed under Temperance
But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.— filed under Cxii
Addressed to Sir G. H. B. Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality.— filed under Cxii
College Chapel, Cambridge. Yet, sometimes, when the secret cup Of still and serious thought went round, It seemed as if he drank it up, He felt with spirit so profound.— filed under Cxii
A brotherhood of venerable Trees.— filed under Treason
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.— filed under Trees And Plants-Yew
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.— filed under Trust
This lonely Yew-tree stands Far from all human dwelling.— filed under Trust
P. 68. The sages say, Dame Truth delights to dwell (Strange Mansion!) in the bottom of a well: Questions are then the Windlass and the rope That pull the grave old Gentlewoman up. JOHN WOLCOTT (Peter Pindar)- Birthday Ode. Truths that wake To perish never.— filed under Truth
on the Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.— filed under Variety
Two voices are there; one is of the sea, One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.— filed under War
Husbandrie. Description of the Properties of Winds. Ch. XII. I dropped my pen; and listened to the wind That sang of trees uptorn and vessels tost; A midnight harmony and wholly lost To the general sense of men by chains confined Of business, care, or pleasure, or resigned To timely sleep.— filed under Wind
And he is oft the wisest man Who is not wise at all.— filed under Wisdom
Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop Than when we soar.— filed under Wisdom
Philarete. Percy's Reliques. 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.— filed under Woman
C. of Delight. And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine; A Being breathing thoughtful breath, A Traveller betwixt life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill.— filed under Woman
of Delight. A perfect Woman, nobly planned To warn, to comfort, and command.— filed under Woman
of Delight. Shalt show us how divine a thing A Woman may be made.— filed under Woman
Dear Child of Nature. She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament.— filed under Woman
There's something in a flying horse, There's something in a huge balloon.— filed under Wooing
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.— filed under Worship
When the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.— filed under Worship
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged,— filed under Wrongs
A youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of heaven.— filed under Zeal
To be young was very heaven!— filed under Zeal