The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Том 6 |
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appeared beauty beneath BOOK breath bright ceased cheerful child close clouds course dark dead death deep delight desires earth face fair faith fear feel fields fixed flowers frame Friend gain give grace grave green hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour human kind land leave less light living lonely look lost mind mortal mountain moved nature never o'er object once pains passed peace pleased pleasure poor praise pure reached reason rest returned rocks round seat seemed seen sense shade side sight silent Solitary sorrow soul sound speak spirit stand steps stood stream suffer tender things thoughts trees truth turned vale virtue voice walk Wanderer wild winds wish youth
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Стр. 372 - What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones, The labour of an age in piled stones, Or that his hallowed relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
Стр. 156 - Even such a shell the universe itself Is to the ear of Faith ; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things; Of ebb and flow, and ever-during power; And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless agitation.
Стр. xi - On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing in solitude, I oft perceive Fair trains of imagery before me rise, Accompanied by feelings of delight Pure, or with no unpleasing sadness mixed ; And I am conscious of affecting thoughts And dear remembrances, whose presence soothes Or elevates the Mind, intent to weigh The good and evil of our mortal state.
Стр. 102 - Turned inward, — to examine of what stuff Time's fetters are composed; and Life was put To inquisition, long and profitless! By pain of heart — now checked — and now impelled — The intellectual Power, through words and things, Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!
Стр. xiii - A history only of departed things, Or a mere fiction of what never was? For the discerning intellect of Man, When wedded to this goodly universe In love and holy passion, shall find these A simple produce of the common day. — I, long before the blissful hour arrives, Would chant, in lonely peace, the spousal verse Of this great consummation...
Стр. 155 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Стр. 37 - I passed, did to my heart convey So still an image of tranquillity, So calm and still, and looked so beautiful Amid the uneasy thoughts which filled my mind, That what we feel of sorrow and despair From ruin and from change, and all the grief The passing shows of Being leave behind, Appeared an idle dream, that could not live 112 Where meditation was. I turned away, And walked along my road in happiness.
Стр. 7 - ... was known. And some small portion of his eloquent speech, And something that may serve to set in view The feeling pleasures of his loneliness...
Стр. 139 - Presented sacrifice to moon and stars, And to the winds and mother elements, And the whole circle of the heavens, for him A sensitive existence, and a God, With lifted hands invoked, and songs of praise...
Стр. 157 - With the loud streams : and often, at the hour When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard, Within the circuit of this fabric huge, One voice — the solitary raven, flying Athwart the concave of the dark blue dome, Unseen, perchance above the power of sight— An iron knell ! with echoes from afar Faint — and still fainter...