William Wordsworth Quotes on Time
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Sweet childish days, that were as long As twenty days are now.
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There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Which to this day stands single, in the midst Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.
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Of vast circumference and gloom profound, This solitary Tree! A living thing Produced too slowly ever to decay; Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed.
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Action is transitory - a step, a blow- The motion of a muscle- this way or that- 'Tis done; and in the after-vacancy We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed.
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These feeble and fastidious times.
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In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs-in spite of things silently gone out of mind, and things violently destroyed, the Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth, and over all time.
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Five years have passed; five summers, with the length Of five long winters! and again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs With a sweet inland murmur. -Once again Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, Which on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
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And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought, With many recognitions dim and faint, And somewhat of a sad perplexity, The picture of the mind revives again: While here I stand, not only with the sense Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts That in this moment there is life and food For future years. And so I dare to hope, Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first I came among these hills;
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Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven!
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A brotherhood of venerable trees.
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Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
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Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present to live better in the future.
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Be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer.
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We take no note of time but from its loss.