330 quotes
And stepping westward seemed to be
A kind of heavenly destiny.
Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)
We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud
And magnify thy name Almighty God!
But man is thy most awful instrument
In working out a pure intent.
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed (1919)
Burn all the statutes and their shelves:
They stir us up against our kind;
And worse, against ourselves.
Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)
A fingering slave,
One that would peep and botanize
Upon his mother's grave.
A Poet's Epitaph (1799)
That every gift of noble origin
Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very Heaven!
Full twenty times was Peter feared,
For once that Peter was respected.
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed (1919)
The good old rule
Sufficeth them, the simple plan,
That they should take, who have the power,
And they should keep who can.
Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)
O Reader! had you in your mind
Such stores as silent thought can bring,
O gentle Reader! you would find
A tale in everything.
Lyrical Ballads (1798)
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.
Men who can hear the Decalogue and feel
No self-reproach.
Is Man
A child of hope? Do generations press
On generations, without progress made?
Halts the individual, ere his hairs be gray,
Perforce?
The Excursion (1814)
Methought I saw the footsteps of a throne.
They dreamt not of a perishable home.
And beauty born of murmuring sound.
Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower (1798)
Hail to the crown by Freedom shaped—to gird
An English sovereign's brow! and to the throne
Whereon he sits! whose deep foundations lie
In veneration and the people's love.
The Excursion (1814)
Blessings be with them, and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!—
The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed (1919)
Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.
I travelled among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.
A face with gladness overspread!
Soft smiles, by human kindness bred!