The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Том 2E. Moxon, 1840 |
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William Wordsworth. All summer - long the happy Eve Of this fair Spot her flowers may bind , Nor e'er , with ruffled fancy , grieve , From the next glance she casts , to find That love for little things by Fate Is rendered vain as love ...
William Wordsworth. All summer - long the happy Eve Of this fair Spot her flowers may bind , Nor e'er , with ruffled fancy , grieve , From the next glance she casts , to find That love for little things by Fate Is rendered vain as love ...
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... spot Once lived a happy life ! You stirred me on my rocky bed- What pleasure through my veins you spread The summer long , from day to day , My leaves you freshened and bedewed ; Nor was it common gratitude That did your cares repay ...
... spot Once lived a happy life ! You stirred me on my rocky bed- What pleasure through my veins you spread The summer long , from day to day , My leaves you freshened and bedewed ; Nor was it common gratitude That did your cares repay ...
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... spot is my paternal home , It is my pleasant heritage ; My father many a happy year , Spread here his careless blossoms , here Attained a good old age . VIII . Even such as his may be my lot 16 THE OAK AND THE BROOM .
... spot is my paternal home , It is my pleasant heritage ; My father many a happy year , Spread here his careless blossoms , here Attained a good old age . VIII . Even such as his may be my lot 16 THE OAK AND THE BROOM .
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... spot to which I point ! From this platform , eight feet square , Take not even a finger - joint : Andrew's whole fire - side is there . Here , alone , before thine eyes , Simon's sickly daughter lies , From weakness now , and pain ...
... spot to which I point ! From this platform , eight feet square , Take not even a finger - joint : Andrew's whole fire - side is there . Here , alone , before thine eyes , Simon's sickly daughter lies , From weakness now , and pain ...
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... , singing , With clouds and sky about thee ringing , Lift me , guide me till I find That spot which seems so to thy mind ! 1803 . I have walked through wildernesses dreary And to - day TO A SKY - LARK . 29 To a Sky-lark.
... , singing , With clouds and sky about thee ringing , Lift me , guide me till I find That spot which seems so to thy mind ! 1803 . I have walked through wildernesses dreary And to - day TO A SKY - LARK . 29 To a Sky-lark.
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beauty behold beneath bird BLACK COMB blest bower breast breath breeze bright BROUGHAM CASTLE calm cheer clouds Countess of Pembroke dancing dear delight doth dwell earth EGREMONT CASTLE fair faith fancy fear feelings flowers gentle gleam Goody Blake Grasmere green grove happy Harry Gill hath head heard heart heaven Helvellyn hill hour human language Laodamia living lofty lonely look Lord Clifford Martha Ray metre metrical mind moon morning mountains murmur nature never night o'er objects oh misery pain passion Peter Bell pleasure Poems Poet poetic diction Poetry poor prose Reader rill river Swale rock round shade sight silent sing sleep song soul sound spirit spot Stanza stars stir stream sweet thee thine things Thorn thou art thoughts trees Twas vale verse voice wandering wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wings withered woods words
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Сторінка 166 - For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief, Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance — If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice...
Сторінка 164 - That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this *Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompense.
Сторінка 82 - Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways, In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen.
Сторінка 88 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Сторінка 314 - And in my breast the imperfect joys expire ; Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men ; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear ; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more because I weep in vain.
Сторінка 166 - Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy...
Сторінка 94 - They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced ; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee : A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed — and gazed — but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought : For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude ; And then my heart with...
Сторінка 307 - ... because in that condition of life our elementary feelings co-exist in a state of greater simplicity, and consequently may be more accurately contemplated, and more forcibly communicated; because the manners of rural life germinate from those elementary feelings, and from the necessary character of rural occupations, are more easily comprehended, and are more durable; and lastly, because in that condition the passions of men are incorporated with the beautiful and permanent forms of nature.
Сторінка 162 - The landscape with the quiet of the sky. The day is come when I again repose Here, under this dark sycamore, and view These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts, Which at this season, with their unripe fruits, Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves Mid groves and copses. Once again I see These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms, Green to the very door...
Сторінка 85 - But worthier still of note Are those fraternal Four of Borrowdale, Joined in one solemn and capacious grove ; Huge trunks ! and each particular trunk a growth Of intertwisted fibres serpentine Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved ; Nor uninformed with phantasy, and looks That threaten the profane...