The poetical works of William Wordsworth, ed. with a critical memoir by W.M. Rossetti |
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Стр. viii
... hour : We had a female Passenger who came Composed in the Valley near Dover , on the day of landing Inland , within a hollow vale , I stood ; Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland 187 187 England ! the time is come when ...
... hour : We had a female Passenger who came Composed in the Valley near Dover , on the day of landing Inland , within a hollow vale , I stood ; Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland 187 187 England ! the time is come when ...
Стр. xvi
... hour . But why , ungrateful , dwell on idle pain ? To show what pleasures yet to me remain , Say , will my Friend , with unreluctant ear , The history of a poet's evening hear ? When , in the south , the wan noon , brooding still ...
... hour . But why , ungrateful , dwell on idle pain ? To show what pleasures yet to me remain , Say , will my Friend , with unreluctant ear , The history of a poet's evening hear ? When , in the south , the wan noon , brooding still ...
Стр. 8
... hour to hour , All day the deepening floods a murmur pour : The sky is veiled , and every cheerful sight : Dark is the region as with coming night ; But what a sudden burst of overpowering light ! Triumphant on the bosom of the storm ...
... hour to hour , All day the deepening floods a murmur pour : The sky is veiled , and every cheerful sight : Dark is the region as with coming night ; But what a sudden burst of overpowering light ! Triumphant on the bosom of the storm ...
Стр. 11
... hour's guest . And oh , fair France ! though now the traveller sees Thy three - striped banner fluctuate on the breeze ; Though martial songs have banished songs of love , And nightingales desert the village grove , Scared by the fife ...
... hour's guest . And oh , fair France ! though now the traveller sees Thy three - striped banner fluctuate on the breeze ; Though martial songs have banished songs of love , And nightingales desert the village grove , Scared by the fife ...
Стр. 12
... hour A morbid pleasure nourished , tracing here An emblem of his own unfruitful life : And , lifting up his head , he then would gaze On the more distant scene , -how lovely ' tis Thou seest , -and he would gaze till it became Far ...
... hour A morbid pleasure nourished , tracing here An emblem of his own unfruitful life : And , lifting up his head , he then would gaze On the more distant scene , -how lovely ' tis Thou seest , -and he would gaze till it became Far ...
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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Ed. with a Critical Memoir by W. M ... William [Poetical Works] Wordsworth Недоступно для просмотра - 2015 |
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art thou aught beauty behold beneath bird blessed blest bowers breast breath bright brow calm cheer Child clouds Cuckoo dark dear deep delight doth dread dream earth fair faith Fancy fear feel flowers Friend gentle gleam glory grace Grasmere grave green grove hand happy hath hear heard heart Heaven hill holy hope hour human Idon light live lonely look MARMADUKE meek mighty mind morning mountain Muse Nature Nature's night o'er pain peace Peter Bell pleasure praise rapture rill RIVER DUDDON rock round RYDAL MOUNT Rylstone shade sigh sight silent SIMPLON PASS sleep smile smooth soft song sorrow soul sound spirit St Bees stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou thought towers trees truth Twas vale voice wandering ween wild wind wings woods words Yarrow youth
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Стр. 351 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Стр. 351 - Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel — I feel it all.
Стр. 121 - 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, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Стр. 121 - Flying from something that he dreads, than one Who sought the thing he loved. For Nature then (The coarser pleasures of my boyish days, And their glad animal movements all gone by) To me was all in all.
Стр. 120 - But oft. in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din 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...
Стр. 351 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep. And all the earth is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May...
Стр. 182 - Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Стр. 351 - I have look'd upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone. The pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat.
Стр. 121 - 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 : for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold...
Стр. 182 - O FRIEND ! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show ; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom ! We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest : The wealthiest man among us is the best : No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry ; and these we adore : Plain living and high thinking are no more : The homely beauty of the good old cause...