She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me.
More Quotes from William Wordsworth:
There neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the language of prose and metrical composition.William Wordsworth
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong.
William Wordsworth
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
The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
William Wordsworth
A day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
William Wordsworth
Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
William Wordsworth
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