The English Poets: Wordsworth to Rossetti. 2d ed., revMacmillan, 1888 |
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Стр. 9
... live , Not unexalted by religious faith , Nor uninformed by books , good books , though few , In Nature's presence : thence may I select Sorrow that is not sorrow , but delight ; ours . And miserable love , that is not pain WILLIAM ...
... live , Not unexalted by religious faith , Nor uninformed by books , good books , though few , In Nature's presence : thence may I select Sorrow that is not sorrow , but delight ; ours . And miserable love , that is not pain WILLIAM ...
Стр. 10
... lives , and have taught the lesson that the real greatness and littleness of human life are not to be measured by the standards of fashion and pride . What made Wordsworth different from other popular poets , and made him great , was a ...
... lives , and have taught the lesson that the real greatness and littleness of human life are not to be measured by the standards of fashion and pride . What made Wordsworth different from other popular poets , and made him great , was a ...
Стр. 29
... live Here in this happy dell . ' Thus Nature spake - The work was done- How soon my Lucy's race was run ! She died , and left to me This heath , this calm , and quiet scene ; The memory of what has been , And never more will be . ( 1799 ...
... live Here in this happy dell . ' Thus Nature spake - The work was done- How soon my Lucy's race was run ! She died , and left to me This heath , this calm , and quiet scene ; The memory of what has been , And never more will be . ( 1799 ...
Стр. 33
... live and sing my idle songs Upon these happy plains ; And , Matthew , for thy children dead I'll be a son to thee ! ' At this he grasped my hand , and said , ' Alas ! that cannot be . ' We rose up from the fountain - side ; And down the ...
... live and sing my idle songs Upon these happy plains ; And , Matthew , for thy children dead I'll be a son to thee ! ' At this he grasped my hand , and said , ' Alas ! that cannot be . ' We rose up from the fountain - side ; And down the ...
Стр. 49
... confine the prayer , When kindred thoughts and yearnings bear On the frail heart the purest share With all that live ? — The best of what we do and are , Just God , forgive ! E ' SHE WAS A PHANTOM . ' She was a WILLIAM WORDSWORTH . 40.
... confine the prayer , When kindred thoughts and yearnings bear On the frail heart the purest share With all that live ? — The best of what we do and are , Just God , forgive ! E ' SHE WAS A PHANTOM . ' She was a WILLIAM WORDSWORTH . 40.
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Artemidora ballads beauty beneath breast breath bright Brignall brow Byron Charles Lamb charm Childe Harold cloud cold Coleridge County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth Ebenezer Elliott EDWARD DOWDEN Emily Brontë English eyes fair fame Fanny Brawne fear feel flowers friends gaze gentle grace grave green hand happy Hartley Coleridge hast hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour JOHN KEATS Keats lady Leigh Hunt light live look mind moon mountains nature ne'er never night o'er once passion poems poet poetic poetry rose round Samian wine shade Shelley sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought trees truth Twas verse voice WALTER LANDOR wandering waves weary wild wind Wordsworth youth
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Стр. 28 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Стр. 324 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Стр. 451 - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: "Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Стр. 19 - Is lightened: — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on, — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Стр. 21 - Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains ; and of all that we behold From this green earth ; of all the mighty world Of eye, and ear, — both what they half create, And what perceive ; well pleased to recognise In nature and the language of the sense, The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being.
Стр. 383 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
Стр. 457 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Стр. 284 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar : I love not Man the less, but Nature more...
Стр. 457 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Стр. 83 - EARTH has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will:...