A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light
Interpretation
The quote celebrates the ideal qualities of a woman, combining strength and gentleness.
In this quote, William Wordsworth portrays the perfect woman as a harmonious blend of strength, compassion, and ethereal beauty. He emphasizes her role not only as a source of comfort and guidance but also as a being with a divine light that inspires and uplifts, suggesting that true strength in femininity lies in both commanding presence and gentle spirit.
In practice
In a speech about women's empowerment, one could use this quote to highlight the ideal qualities they admire in women.
For mightier far_x000D_ _x000D_ Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway_x000D_ _x000D_ Of magic potent over sun and star,_x000D_ _x000D_ Is love, though oft to agony distrest,_x000D_ _x000D_ And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth, and every common sight,_x000D_ _x000D_ To me did seem_x000D_ _x000D_ Apparelled in celestial light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The glory and the freshness of a dream.
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
I made you, dear, and all I make is perfect. Please come close, for I desire you.
Never in his life had Edward been cradled like a baby. Abilene had not done it. Nor had Nellie. And most certainly, Bull had not. It was a singular sensation to be held so gently and yet so fiercely, to be stared down at with so much love. Edward felt the whole of his china body flood with warmth. (page 128)
Some men know that a light touch of the tongue, running from a woman's toes to her ears, lingering in the softest way possible in various places in between, given often enough and sincerely enough, would add immeasurably to world peace.
Thou wouldst be loved? - then let thy heart_x000D_ _x000D_ From its present pathway part not!_x000D_ _x000D_ Being everything which now thou art,_x000D_ _x000D_ Be nothing which thou art not._x000D_ _x000D_ So with the world thy gentle ways,_x000D_ _x000D_ Thy grace, thy more than beauty,_x000D_ _x000D_ Shall be an endless theme of praise,_x000D_ _x000D_ And love - a simple duty.
Love either finds equality or makes it.
I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit. I have none of the selfless love of my mother. I have none of the plodding, practical love. . . . . I am, to be blunt and concise, in love only with myself, my puny being with its small inadequate breasts and meager, thin talents. I am capable of affection for those who reflect my own world.
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