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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 79d087f | But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 5a38601 | Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home! | William Wordsworth | ||
| bd2fdcc | Ocean is a mighty harmonist. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 3cdb1fb | These feeble and fastidious times. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 1a163cb | Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive. | William Wordsworth | ||
| d25e672 | Oh, be wise, Thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads to love. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 9723581 | A primrose by a river's brim And it was nothing more. | William Wordsworth | ||
| bc5d82b | In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 5339edc | Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man? | William Wordsworth | ||
| 093d034 | Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 455cb47 | The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door! | William Wordsworth | ||
| 8630193 | And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 810dffc | Something between a hindrance and a help. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 66697c1 | May no rude hand deface it, And its forlorn Hic jacet! | William Wordsworth | ||
| 1f1c132 | O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods, How often has my spirit turned to thee! | William Wordsworth | ||
| 1eccee4 | A fingering slave, Upon his mother's grave. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 0d5dfdd | A reasoning, self-sufficing thing, An intellectual All-in-all! | William Wordsworth | ||
| dff255e | He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own. | William Wordsworth | ||
| a6fac01 | And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love. | William Wordsworth | ||
| dd8b0ab | The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart. | William Wordsworth | ||
| c24aa02 | Fair seedtime had my soul, and I grew up Fostered alike by beauty and by fear. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 9526097 | A day Spent in a round of strenuous idleness. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 4635152 | Another morn Risen on mid-noon. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 317b7e7 | Brothers all Scholars and gentlemen. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 95214f6 | Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven! | William Wordsworth | ||
| e40affe | And stepping westward seemed to be A kind of heavenly destiny. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 3f0a003 | A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer's joy. | William Wordsworth | ||
| be676a2 | The Eagle, he was lord above, And Rob was lord below. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 2ccd524 | A brotherhood of venerable trees. | William Wordsworth | ||
| f256a0b | And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 2e6da77 | Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 604d430 | Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 4a81fbb | A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company. | William Wordsworth | ||
| c38975d | That inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude. | William Wordsworth | ||
| a60e3cf | Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! | William Wordsworth | ||
| dd70065 | A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove. | William Wordsworth | ||
| eca7ca2 | Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he That every man in arms should wish to be? | William Wordsworth | ||
| b0cd6c5 | And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 4ebb948 | Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 7d91a54 | As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 7b33dc1 | That heareth not the loud winds when they call, And moveth all together, if it moves at all. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 9c0a243 | Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach Of ordinary men. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 4eafb30 | And mighty poets in their misery dead. | William Wordsworth | ||
| a74fb72 | For the gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul. | William Wordsworth |