Quote #188
A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident tomorrows.
More from William Wordsworth
- Wild is the music of the autumnal wind Among the faded woods.
- 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…
- Spires whose 'silent finger points to heaven.'
- Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
- One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
- The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an Angel's wing.
- 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…
- Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore Of nicely calculated less or more.