The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing.
More Quotes from William Wordsworth:
What though the radiance which was once so bright; Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour; Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find; Strength in what remains behin.William Wordsworth
More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure, As tempted more more able to endure, As more exposed to suffering and distress.
William Wordsworth
There neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the language of prose and metrical composition.
William Wordsworth
Farewell, farewell the heart that lives alone, Housed in a dream, at distance from the kind.
William Wordsworth
Many are our joysIn youth, but oh what happiness to liveWhen every hour brings palpable accessOf knowledge, when all knowledge is delight,And sorrow is not there
William Wordsworth
A man of hope and forward-looking mind; Even to the last.
William Wordsworth
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