Quote #204

He lived amidst th'untrodden ways To Rydal Lake that lead:- A bard whom there were none to praise, And very few to read. Behind a cloud his mystic sense, Deep-hidden, who can spy? Bright as the night, when not a star Is shining in the sky. Unread his works - his 'Milk-white Doe' With dust is dark and dim; It's still in Longman's shop, and Oh! The difference to him!

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  1. Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.
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  3. If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.
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  5. What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.
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  7. We take no note of time but from its loss.
  8. Two voices are there: one is of the deep; It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody, Now roars, now murmurs with the changing sea, Now …

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