William Wordsworth II

The best portion of a good man's life: his little, nameless unremembered acts of kindness and love.

Wisdom is oft-times nearer when we stoop
Than when we soar.

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.

Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be...

Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her.

Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.

The music in my heart I bore
Long after it was heard no more.

Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher.

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man