. . . I would stand,If the night blackened with a coming storm,Beneath some rock, listening to notes that areThe ghostly language of the ancient earth,Or make their dim abode in distant winds.Thence did I drink the visionary powerAnd deem not profitless those fleeting moodsOf shadowy exultation not for this,That they are kindred to our purer mindAnd intellectual life but that the soul,Remembering how she felt, but what she feltRemembering not, retains an obscure senseOf possible sublimity. . . .
More Quotes from William Wordsworth:
What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.William Wordsworth
And so the grandeur of the Forest-treeComes not by casting in a formal mould,But from its own divine vitality.
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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.
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More like a man; Flying from something that he dreads than one; Who sought the thing he loved.
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Milton thou should'st be living at this hour England hath need of thee.
William Wordsworth
The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
William Wordsworth
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Based on Topics: Listening Quotes, Night QuotesBased on Keywords: arethe, blackened, exultation, ghostly, profitless, sublimity, thisthat
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