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558 quotes from 241 people
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language
Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.
Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there
That’s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!
A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d, And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night, I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
I wander’d off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago.
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by.
There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
Glory be to God for dappled things
The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed.
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things
