William Wordsworth
“The river glideth at his own sweet will.”
“A host, of golden daffodils.”
“That inward eye which is the bliss of solitude.”
“Give unto me, made lowly wise, the spirit of self-sacrifice.”
“Plain living and high thinking are no more.”
“Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; and all that mighty heart is lying still!”
“Earth has not anything to show more fair.”
“Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.”
“The Child is father of the Man.”
“I wandered lonely as a cloud.”