The music in my heart I bore
Long after it was heard no more.

William Wordsworth


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Books! tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.

William Wordsworth

Stichwörter: wisdom books poetry nature



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Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive
But to be young was very heaven.

William Wordsworth

Stichwörter: love



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Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished.

William Wordsworth


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For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.

William Wordsworth

Stichwörter: poetry humanity nature



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The child is father of the man

William Wordsworth


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If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven,
Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light,
Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content: --
The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,
And they that from the zenith dart their beams,
(Visible though they be to half the earth,
Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness)
Are yet of no diviner origin,
No purer essence, than the one that burns,
Like an untended watch-fire on the ridge
Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem
Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps,
Among the branches of the leafless trees.
All are the undying offspring of one Sire:
Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed,
Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content.

William Wordsworth


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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!

William Wordsworth

Stichwörter: life love poetry world nature poem hearts busyness



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The eye--it cannot choose but see;
We cannot bid the ear be still;
Our bodies feel, where'er they be,
Against or with our will.

William Wordsworth

Stichwörter: poetry nature feelings



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The earth was all before me. With a heart
Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty,
I look about; and should the chosen guide
Be nothing better than a wandering cloud,
I cannot miss my way.

William Wordsworth


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