William Wordsworth

One of the greatest poets of all time here to bless your timeline with beautiful poetry to uplift your spirit.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.

-The Tables Turned (final stanza)

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

@artistmanet The best there ever was.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

It was a beautiful and silent day
That overspread the countenance of earth,
Then fading with unusual quietness,—
A day as beautiful as e’er was given
To soothe regret, though deepening what it soothed

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

O blithe New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

Love, now a universal birth,
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
—It is the hour of feeling.

One moment now may give us more
Than years of toiling reason:
Our minds shall drink at every pore
The spirit of the season.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,
With brightest sunshine round me spread
Of spring’s unclouded weather,
In this sequestered nook how sweet
To sit upon my orchard-seat!

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

@PankajKumar2322 Quite an ode.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

@Esteesians You remain my fine friend and literary superior, good sir.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

Thus Nature spake — The work was done —
How soon my Lucy’s race was run!
She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

@meredithfox22 One impulse from a vernal wood may teach you more of man, more of evil and of good than all the sages can.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

Where are your books? that light bequeath’d
To beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! Up! and drink the spirit breath’d
From dead men to their kind
You look round on your mother earth
As if she for no purpose bore you
As if you were her first-born birth
And none had lived before you!

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

The outward shows of sky and earth,
Of hill and valley, he has viewed;
And impulses of deeper birth
Have come to him in solitude.
-A Poet’s Epitaph (lines 45-48)

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

Thus Nature spake—the work was done—
How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene,
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.
-Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower (final stanza)

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

Five years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.

-Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

She lived unknown and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be,
But she is in her grave,
And, oh the difference to me.

-She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways (final stanza)

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

A Lawyer art thou?—draw not nigh!
Go, carry to some fitter place
The keenness of that practised eye,
The hardness of that sallow face.
-A Poet’s Epitaph (first stanza)

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

@artistmanet One of my favourites.

[William Wordsworth @Wordsworthpoems]

@Esteesians @Wordsworthians ...(forlorn expression)