A deep distress hath humanized my Soul.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Elegiac Stanzas (l. 36). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.)

I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy,
The sleepless soul that perished in his pride;
Of him who walked in glory and in joy
Following his plough, along the mountain side:
By our own spirits are we deified:
We poets in our youth begin in gladness;
But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Resolution and Independence (l. 43-49). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.)

The rapt One, of the godlike forehead,
The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth:
And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle,
Has vanished from his lonely hearth.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg (l. 17-20). . . The Poems; Vol. 2 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1989) Penguin Books.)

The good old rule
Sufficeth them, the simple plan,
That they should take, who have the power,
And they should keep who can.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Rob Roy's Grave, st. 9, Poems in Two Volumes (1807).)

Come, blessed barrier between day and day,
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. To Sleep (l. 13-14). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.)

Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might
Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height,
Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke
The years to bring the inevitable yoke,

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (l. 121-124). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.)

Thou hast left behind
Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies;
There's not a breathing of the common wind
That will forget thee; thou hast great allies;
Thy friends are exultations, agonies,
And love, and man's unconquerable mind.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. To Toussaint L'Ouverture (l. 8-14). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.)

Caught by the spectacle my mind turned round
As with the might of waters; an apt type
This label seemed of the utmost we can know,
Both of ourselves and of the universe;
And, on the shape of that unmoving man,
His steadfast face and sightless eyes, I gazed,
As if admonished from another world.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. The Prelude; VII. Residence in London (l. 643-649). . . Oxford Anthology of English Literature, The, Vols. I-II. Frank Kermode and John Hollander, general eds. (1973) Oxford University Press (Also published as six paperback vols.: Medieval English Literature, J. B. Trapp, ed.; The Literature of Renaissance England, John Hollander and Frank Kermode, eds.; The Restoration and the Eighteenth Century, Martin Price, ed.; Romantic Poetry and Prose, Harold Bloom and Lionel Trilling, eds.; Victorian Prose and Poetry, Lionel Trilling and Harold Bloom, eds.; Modern British Literature, Frank Kermode and John Hollander, eds.).)

many and many a day he thither went,
And never lifted up a single stone.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. Michael (l. 465-466). . . The Poems; Vol. 1 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1990) Penguin Books.)

Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower,
We feel that we are greater than we know.

(William Wordsworth (1770-1850), British poet. The River Duddon. . . The Poems; Vol. 2 [William Wordsworth]. John O. Hayden, ed. (1977, repr. 1989) Penguin Books.)