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William Wordsworth
Quote #186
Spires whose 'silent finger points to heaven.'
More from William Wordsworth
One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
Wild is the music of the autumnal wind Among the faded woods.
I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To whi…
A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident tomorrows.
We live by Admiration, Hope and Love.
As thou these ashes, little brook! will bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, th…
Lost in a gloom of uninspired research.
Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
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