Select Pieces from the Poems of William WordsworthJ. Burns, 1843 - 233 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 21
Сторінка
... BLIND HIGHLAND BOY 54 HARTLEAP WELL . 64 YARROW UNVISITED 72 YARROW VISITED 75 A HAIL - STORM SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE 79 80 TO A SKYLARK TO THE SAME 87 88 THE REDBREAST AND BUTTERFLY 89 THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN THE ...
... BLIND HIGHLAND BOY 54 HARTLEAP WELL . 64 YARROW UNVISITED 72 YARROW VISITED 75 A HAIL - STORM SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE 79 80 TO A SKYLARK TO THE SAME 87 88 THE REDBREAST AND BUTTERFLY 89 THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN THE ...
Сторінка 30
... image of thy rest Hath often eased my pensive breast Of careful sadness . And all day long I number yet , All seasons through , another debt , Which I , wherever thou art met , To thee am owing ; - An instinct call it , a blind sense , A.
... image of thy rest Hath often eased my pensive breast Of careful sadness . And all day long I number yet , All seasons through , another debt , Which I , wherever thou art met , To thee am owing ; - An instinct call it , a blind sense , A.
Сторінка 31
William [poetical works Wordsworth (selections]). An instinct call it , a blind sense , A happy , genial influence , Coming one knows not how nor whence , Nor whither going . Child of the year ! that round dost run Thy pleasant course ...
William [poetical works Wordsworth (selections]). An instinct call it , a blind sense , A happy , genial influence , Coming one knows not how nor whence , Nor whither going . Child of the year ! that round dost run Thy pleasant course ...
Сторінка 35
... blind sailor , rich in joy Though blind , thy tunes in sadness hum ; And mourn , thou poor half - witted boy , Born deaf , and living deaf and dumb . Thou drooping sick man , bless the guide Who checked or turned thy headstrong youth ...
... blind sailor , rich in joy Though blind , thy tunes in sadness hum ; And mourn , thou poor half - witted boy , Born deaf , and living deaf and dumb . Thou drooping sick man , bless the guide Who checked or turned thy headstrong youth ...
Сторінка 53
... fled Hither let us bend our walk ; Lurking berries , ripe and red , Then will hang on every stalk , Each within its leafy bower ; - And for that promise spare the flower ! 54 The Blind Highland Boy . Now we are tired.
... fled Hither let us bend our walk ; Lurking berries , ripe and red , Then will hang on every stalk , Each within its leafy bower ; - And for that promise spare the flower ! 54 The Blind Highland Boy . Now we are tired.
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
art thou bagpipe behold beneath bird blessed blest blind bower breath bright brother Brougham Castle cheerful child choice or chance churchyard clouds cottage dead dear deep delight door earth earth abide EGREMONT CASTLE Ennerdale eyes fair father fear fields flowers glad gone grave green greenwood tree grove hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour Isabel land Laodamia LEONARD light lived lofty look Luke mind morning mother mountain mourn mournfully murmur never night o'er pain passed peace pleasant pleasure poor PRIEST Rich groves Richard Bateman rills rocks round Ruth seemed SEVEN SISTERS shepherd side sight silent sing sleep solitude song sorrow soul sound spirit stone stood sweet thee There's things thou art thought TINTERN ABBEY trees Twas Twill vale voice wander waters weary ween wild wind woods Yarrow youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 4 - A SIMPLE Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: Her eyes were fair, and very fair ; — Her beauty made me glad. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Сторінка 5 - Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?' 'How many? Seven in all,' she said, And wondering looked at me. 'And where are they? I pray you tell.
Сторінка 43 - Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain ; 0 listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound. No Nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt, Among Arabian sands : A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings...
Сторінка 168 - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure: — But the least motion which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
Сторінка 25 - 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...
Сторінка 164 - And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance, If I should be, where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence, wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I, so long A worshipper of Nature, hither came, Unwearied in that service : rather say With warmer love, oh ! with far deeper zeal Of holier love.
Сторінка 93 - THERE was a roaring in the wind all night ; The rain came heavily and fell in floods ; But now the sun is rising calm and bright ; The birds are singing in the distant woods...
Сторінка 147 - tis believed by all That many and many a day he thither went, And never lifted up a single stone.
Сторінка 159 - Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ,, And passing even into my purer mind, With tranquil restoration...
Сторінка 27 - ... Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, 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...