Quote #100
She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love:
More from William Wordsworth
- What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a lover's head! 'O mercy!' to myself I cried, 'If Lucy should be dead!'
- She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me!
- I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
- Three years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This Child I to myself will take; She…
- O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.
- A slumber did my spirit seal; I had no human fears: She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she no…
- One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.
- A fingering slave, One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.