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William Wordsworth Quotes about Heart

All William Wordsworth Quotes Age Art Beauty Belief Betrayal Business Childhood Children Cooking Creation Death Desire Dignity Earth Environment Evil Faith Fear Feelings Giving Glory Gold Grace Gratitude Grief Grieving Growth Happiness Heart quotes Heaven Home Hope Humanity Imagination Inspirational Intuition Joy Kindness Knowledge Life Loss Love Lying Memories Mountain Music Nature Pain Passion Past Pleasure Poetry Power Praise Prayer Pride Sadness Science Silence Simplicity Sleep Solitude Sorrow Soul Spring Suffering Summer Sunshine Sympathy Time Truth Universe War Water Wealth Wisdom Writing Youth

Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.

Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.

William Wordsworth

Sweet, Heart, Blood

'Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey' (1798) l. 26

Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Garden, Pleasure

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" l. 19 (1815 ed.)

Write to me frequently & the longest letters possible; never mind whether you have facts or no to communicate; fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.

William Wordsworth

Writing, Heart, Breathing

William Wordsworth, Dorothy Wordsworth, Ernest De Selincourt, Alan G. Hill, Chester Linn Shaver (1967). “The Letters of William and Dorothy Wordsworth: Volume VIII. A Supplement of New Letters”, p.51, Oxford University Press on Demand

Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Men, Lasts

William Wordsworth, Dorothy Wordsworth (1815). “Poems”, p.381

There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.

William Wordsworth

Love, Being Strong, Heart

William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Michael Mason (2007). “Lyrical Ballads”, p.356, Pearson Education

True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.

William Wordsworth

Life, Heart, True Beauty

"To ____ ('Let other bards of angels sing...')". Poem by William Wordsworth, www.bartleby.com. 1824.

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.

William Wordsworth

Home, Heart, Destiny

William Wordsworth (1854). “The Complete Poetical Works of William Wordsworth”, p.507

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.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Men, Sky

"My Heart Leaps Up When I Behold" l. 1 (1807). Wordsworth also used the last three lines as the epigraph for his poem "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood" (1807). See Milton 43

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; for from within were heard Murmurings whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea. Even such a shell the universe itself Is to the ear of faith; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things, Of ebb and flow, and ever enduring power, And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless Agitation.

William Wordsworth

Children, Heart, Sea

"The Complete Poetical Works of William Wordsworth: The Excursion".

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.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Eye, Tears

William Wordsworth (1828). “The Poetical Works”, p.231

The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.

William Wordsworth

Running, Gratitude, Heart

William Wordsworth, “Simon Lee: The Old Huntsman”

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.

William Wordsworth

Sweet, Kindness, Heart

"Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey" l. 34 (1798)

True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Inward, Dignity

William Wordsworth (1854). “The Complete Poetical Works of William Wordsworth”, p.38

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.

William Wordsworth

Sweet, Heart, Humble

William Wordsworth (1837). “The Complete Poetical Works of William Wordsworth: Together with a Description of the Country of the Lakes in the North of England, Now First Published with His Works ...”, p.66

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

Sweet, Memories, Heart

William Wordsworth (1854). “The Complete Poetical Works of William Wordsworth”, p.239

A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.

William Wordsworth

Mother, Heart, Babe

1799-1805 The Prelude, bk.2, l.267-8 (published 1850).

And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Men, Thinking

'Lines Written in Early Spring' (1798)

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 Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune.

William Wordsworth

Flower, Sleep, Heart

"TheWorld Is Too Much with Us" l. 1 (1807)

One solace yet remains for us who came Into this world in days when story lacked Severe research, that in our hearts we know How, for exciting youth's heroic flame, Assent is power, belief the soul of fact.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Flames, Soul

William Wordsworth (1994). “The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth”, p.359, Wordsworth Editions

The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Fever, World

William Wordsworth (1985). “William Wordsworth: The Pedlar, Tintern Abbey, the Two-Part Prelude”, p.35, Cambridge University Press

The good die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust, burn to the socket.

William Wordsworth

Death, Summer, Heart

'The Excursion' (1814) bk. 1, l. 500

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.

William Wordsworth

Lying, Flower, Heart

'Ode. Intimations of Immortality' (1807) st. 11

In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, And on the vacant air.

William Wordsworth

Sweet, Nature, Heart

William Wordsworth (1847). “The Poems of William Wordsworth”, p.143

The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!

William Wordsworth

Heart, Blue, Sky

William Wordsworth (1835). “The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Etc”, p.105

Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart.

William Wordsworth

Heart, Keys, Justice

"Scorn not the Sonnet" l. 1 (1827)

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