Thou has 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.
Interpretation
The quote emphasizes the enduring power of nature and human emotion as allies in life's journey.
William Wordsworth’s quote suggests that individuals possess powerful forces—nature and their own emotions—that will continuously support them throughout life. The elements of air, earth, and skies symbolize the natural world's constant presence, while the mention of friends, exultations, and agonies highlights the importance of human experience and relationships in overcoming challenges. Together, these forces serve as empowering reminders of our interconnectedness with the world and the strength found within ourselves.
In practice
In a speech about the importance of mental resilience during tough times.
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.
one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
Under your skin the moon is alive.
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
And I will find some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,/ Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings.
My self-confidence can be measured out in teaspoons mixed into my poetry, and it still always tastes funny in my mouth.
My tears are like the quiet drift of petals from some magic rose; and all my grief flows from the rift of unremembered skies and snows. I think that if I touched the earth, it would crumble; it is so sad and beautiful, so tremulously like a dream.
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