Quote #70
Lives there a man whose sole delights Are trivial pomp and city noise, Hardening a heart that loathes or slights What every natural heart enjoys?
More from William Wordsworth
- The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.
- A soul so pitiably forlorn, If such do on this earth abide, May season apathy with scorn, May turn indifference to pride; And still be not …
- We feel that we are greater than we know.
- But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
- Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour.
- True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.
- What is pride? A whizzing rocket That would emulate a star.
- Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!