[...]the stately and slow-moving Turk,
With freight of slippers piled beneath his arm.
Stichwörter: poetry
Where are your books? - that light bequeathed
To beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed
From dead men to their kind.
The good die first.
William WordsworthStichwörter: william-wordsworth
I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man...
William WordsworthI'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.
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.
The storm came on before its time:
She wandered up and down;
And many a hill did Lucy climb:
But never reached the town.
Stichwörter: lucy-gray
Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
William WordsworthStichwörter: immortality
In ourselves our safety must be sought.
By our own right hand it must be wrought.
Stichwörter: safety self-discovery wordsworth
How does the meadow-flower its bloom
unfold?
Because the lovely little flower is free
Down to its root, and in that freedom
bold.
With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.
William WordsworthStichwörter: inspirational
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