The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Том 2Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green, 1827 |
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Сторінка 7
... face , And yet with something of a grace , Which Love makes for thee ! Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit , and play with similies , Loose types of Things through all degrees , Thoughts of thy raising : And many a fond and idle name ...
... face , And yet with something of a grace , Which Love makes for thee ! Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit , and play with similies , Loose types of Things through all degrees , Thoughts of thy raising : And many a fond and idle name ...
Сторінка 22
... ; It fears not rain , nor wind , nor dew ; But in the storm ' tis fresh and blue As budding pines in Spring ; His helmet has a vernal grace , Fresh as the bloom upon his face . A harp is from his shoulder slung ; He rests 22 22 A FRAGMENT .
... ; It fears not rain , nor wind , nor dew ; But in the storm ' tis fresh and blue As budding pines in Spring ; His helmet has a vernal grace , Fresh as the bloom upon his face . A harp is from his shoulder slung ; He rests 22 22 A FRAGMENT .
Сторінка 23
... face you spy No trace of a ferocious air , Nor ever was a cloudless sky So steady or so fair . The lovely Danish Boy is blest And happy in his flowery cove : From bloody deeds his thoughts are far ; And yet he warbles songs of war ...
... face you spy No trace of a ferocious air , Nor ever was a cloudless sky So steady or so fair . The lovely Danish Boy is blest And happy in his flowery cove : From bloody deeds his thoughts are far ; And yet he warbles songs of war ...
Сторінка 33
... face , Reproaches from their lips are sent , That mimickry should thus disgrace The noble Instrument . A very Harp in all but size ! Needles for strings in apt gradation ! Minerva's self would stigmatize The unclassic profanation . Even ...
... face , Reproaches from their lips are sent , That mimickry should thus disgrace The noble Instrument . A very Harp in all but size ! Needles for strings in apt gradation ! Minerva's self would stigmatize The unclassic profanation . Even ...
Сторінка 37
... face Of beauty , by the changing Moon adorned , Would , with imperious admonition , then Have scored thine age , and punctually timed Thine infant history , on the minds of those Who might have wandered with thee . - Mother's love , Nor ...
... face Of beauty , by the changing Moon adorned , Would , with imperious admonition , then Have scored thine age , and punctually timed Thine infant history , on the minds of those Who might have wandered with thee . - Mother's love , Nor ...
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admiration appear Babe beauty behold beneath Bird BLACK COMB blood bower breath bright BROUGHAM CASTLE calm cheer Child clouds Countess of Pembroke dark dear deep delight doth earth fair faith Fancy fear feel flowers genius gentle gleam glow-worm Goody Blake GRASMERE green grove happy Harry Gill hath head heard heart Heaven Helvellyn hill hour human Laodamia live lofty look Lord Clifford Martha Ray mind moon mortal mountain murmur nature never night o'er oh misery Ossian pain Paradise Lost pensive Peter Bell pleasure Poem Poet poetry poor praise Rill river rocks round seems shade Shakspeare sight silent sing song Sonnet soul sound spirit stars stood stream Swale sweet thee thine thing Thorn thou thoughts Threlkeld trees Twas vale voice wandering ween wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wing woods Youth
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Сторінка 60 - 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 way-lay.
Сторінка 286 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Сторінка 64 - The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden's form By silent sympathy. 'The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Сторінка 356 - And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places : thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations ; and thou shalt be called The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in.
Сторінка 289 - 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; It moves us not.
Сторінка 182 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, 80 That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Сторінка 104 - The wind, the tempest roaring high, The tumult of a tropic sky Might well be dangerous food For him, a youth to whom was given So much of earth — so much of heaven, And such impetuous blood.
Сторінка 47 - 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 268 - Sleepless! and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees; And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth: So do not let me wear...
Сторінка 305 - SCORN not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakspeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow: a glow-worm lamp. It...