Lyrical Ballads,: With Other Poems. In Two Volumes, Том 1T.N. Longman and O. Rees, Paternoster-Row, 1800 |
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Стр. iii
... written when sailing in a Boat at Evening Lines written near Richmond , upon the Thames The Idiot Boy Love The Mad Mother The Ancient Mariner Lines written above Tintern Abbey 21 25 29 38 54 59 64 67 83 85 92 94 · 101 103 - 107 · 138 ...
... written when sailing in a Boat at Evening Lines written near Richmond , upon the Thames The Idiot Boy Love The Mad Mother The Ancient Mariner Lines written above Tintern Abbey 21 25 29 38 54 59 64 67 83 85 92 94 · 101 103 - 107 · 138 ...
Стр. vii
... written . But I was unwilling to undertake the task , because I knew that on this occasion the Reader would look coldly upon my arguments , since I might be suspected of having been principally influenced by the selfish and foolish hope ...
... written . But I was unwilling to undertake the task , because I knew that on this occasion the Reader would look coldly upon my arguments , since I might be suspected of having been principally influenced by the selfish and foolish hope ...
Стр. viii
... obtruding upon the Public , without a few words of introduction , Poems so materially different from those , upon which general appro- bation is at present bestowed . It is supposed , that by the act of writing viii . PREFACE .
... obtruding upon the Public , without a few words of introduction , Poems so materially different from those , upon which general appro- bation is at present bestowed . It is supposed , that by the act of writing viii . PREFACE .
Стр. ix
... writing in verse an Author makes a formal engagement that he will gratify certain known habits of association , that he not only thus apprizes the Reader that certain classes of ideas and expressions will be found in his book , but that ...
... writing in verse an Author makes a formal engagement that he will gratify certain known habits of association , that he not only thus apprizes the Reader that certain classes of ideas and expressions will be found in his book , but that ...
Стр. xxiii
... the best poems will be found to be strictly the language of prose when prose is well written . The truth of this assertion might be demonstrated by innumerable passages from almost all the poetical writings PREFACE . xxiii .
... the best poems will be found to be strictly the language of prose when prose is well written . The truth of this assertion might be demonstrated by innumerable passages from almost all the poetical writings PREFACE . xxiii .
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Albatross ANCIENT MARINER babe beauty Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips breeze bright chatter child composition dead dear door dreadful fair father fear feelings friends Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart Hermit high crag hill of moss hope idiot boy Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist limbs Liswyn farm look look'd Martha Ray metre mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd nature never night numbers o'er oh misery old Susan owlets pain passion pleasure Poems Poet poetic diction Poetry pond pony poor old poor Susan porringer pray prose Quoth Reader sails Ship silent SIMON LEE song soul spirit stanza stars Stephen Hill stood Susan Gale sweet tale tautology tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought thro tion Twas verse voice wedding-guest weep wherefore wild wind wood words Young Harry
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Стр. 198 - O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay ! Farewell, farewell!
Стр. 172 - A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
Стр. 208 - 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. 209 - Into a sober pleasure ; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies...
Стр. 204 - 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. If this Be but a vain belief, yet, oh ! how oft, 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. 2 - Nor less I deem that there are powers Which of themselves our minds impress ; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness.
Стр. 55 - 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. "And where are they ? I pray you tell.
Стр. 189 - The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon. The rock shone bright, the kirk no less That stands above the rock: The moonlight...
Стр. 4 - The sun above the mountain's head, A freshening lustre mellow, Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow. Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife, Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music; on my life There's more of wisdom in it. And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
Стр. 141 - And she forgave me, that I gazed Too fondly on her face! But when I told the cruel scorn That crazed that bold and lovely Knight, And that he cross'd the mountain-woods, Nor rested day nor night; That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade— There came and look'd him in the face An angel beautiful and bright; And that he knew it was a Fiend, This miserable Knight!