Lyrical Ballads: With Pastoral and Other PoemsT.N. Longman and O.Rees, 1802 |
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Стр. xiv
... POOR SUSAN and the CHILDLESS FATHER , particularly to the last Stanza of the latter Poem . I will not suffer a sense of false modesty to prevent me from asserting , that I point my Reader's atten- tion to this mark of distinction , far ...
... POOR SUSAN and the CHILDLESS FATHER , particularly to the last Stanza of the latter Poem . I will not suffer a sense of false modesty to prevent me from asserting , that I point my Reader's atten- tion to this mark of distinction , far ...
Стр. 10
... poor ; Ill fed she was , and thinly clad ; And any man who pass'd her door , Might see how poor a hut she had . All day she spun in her poor dwelling : And 10.
... poor ; Ill fed she was , and thinly clad ; And any man who pass'd her door , Might see how poor a hut she had . All day she spun in her poor dwelling : And 10.
Стр. 11
... poor old Dames , as I have known , Will often live in one small cottage ; But she , poor Woman ! dwelt alone . ' Twas well enough when summer came , The long , warm , lightsome summer - day , Then at her door the canty Dame Would sit ...
... poor old Dames , as I have known , Will often live in one small cottage ; But she , poor Woman ! dwelt alone . ' Twas well enough when summer came , The long , warm , lightsome summer - day , Then at her door the canty Dame Would sit ...
Стр. 13
... poor old bones to ache , Could any thing be more alluring , Than an old hedge to Goody Blake ; And , now and then , it must be said , When her old bones were cold and chill , She left her fire , or left her bed , To seek the hedge of ...
... poor old bones to ache , Could any thing be more alluring , Than an old hedge to Goody Blake ; And , now and then , it must be said , When her old bones were cold and chill , She left her fire , or left her bed , To seek the hedge of ...
Стр. 14
... Till she had filled her apron full . When with her load she turned about , The bye - road back again to take , He started forward with a shout , And sprang upon poor Goody Blake . And fiercely by the arm he took her , And 14.
... Till she had filled her apron full . When with her load she turned about , The bye - road back again to take , He started forward with a shout , And sprang upon poor Goody Blake . And fiercely by the arm he took her , And 14.
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Albatross ancient Mariner Babe Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips breeze chatter cold composition dead dear door endeavoured excitement fair fear feelings Friend Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath hear heard heart high crag Hill of moss hope Idiot Boy Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist language limbs Liswyn farm live look'd looks LYRICAL BALLADS Martha Ray metre metrical mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd nature never night numbers o'er objects oh misery old Susan pain pass'd passion pleasure Poems Poet Poet's Poetry Pond Pony poor old poor Susan porringer pray produced prose Quoth Reader Ship silent Simon Lee song soul spirit Stephen Hill stood Susan Gale sweet tale tautology tears tell thee There's things Thorn thou thought thro tion truth Twas verse voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind wood words Young Harry
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Стр. 195 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colors 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. 196 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
Стр. vii - Humble and rustic life was generally chosen, because, in that condition, the essential passions of the heart find a better soil in which they can attain their maturity, are less under restraint, and speak a plainer and more emphatic language...
Стр. 198 - My dear dear Friend ; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. Oh ! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear dear Sister! and this prayer I make Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lend From joy to joy...
Стр. xxxviii - The remotest discoveries of the Chemist, the Botanist, or Mineralogist will be as proper objects of the Poet's art as any upon which it can be employed if the time should ever come when these things shall be familiar to us and the relations under which they are contemplated by the followers of these respective sciences shall be manifestly and palpably material to us as enjoying and suffering beings.
Стр. 153 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Стр. xxxvii - He is the rock of defence for human nature; an upholder and preserver, carrying everywhere with him relationship and love. In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs : in spite of things silently gone out of mind, and things violently destroyed; the Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth, and over all time.
Стр. 194 - In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless day-light ; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye ! Thou wanderer thro...
Стр. 92 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Стр. 192 - 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 Among the woods and copses, nor disturb The wild green landscape. Once again I see These hedgerows, hardly hedgerows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild ; these pastoral farms, Green to the very door ; and wreaths of smoke Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!