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William Wordsworth
Quote #150
A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company.
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Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tosing their heads in sprightly dance.
That inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude.
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way.
A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils. Beside …
Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose that e…
A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command.
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
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