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Lyrical Ballads: With Pastoral and Other Poems, in Two Volumes, Том 2
Полный просмотр - 1802
affections appear Babe Betty birds bright bring carried character cold composition connected dead dear deep door endeavoured excitement expression face fair Father fear feelings Friend give gone green hand happy Harry hath head hear heard heart Hill hope human Idiot Boy interest Johnny kind land language less light lines live looks Mariner metre metrical mind moon mountain nature never night o'er objects once pain passion perhaps pleasure Poems Poet Poetry poor pray present produced prose Reader reason round Science sense Ship side silent song soul sound speak spirit stands stood Susan sweet tale tears tell thee There's things Thorn thou thought tion tree true truth turned Twas verse voice wild wind wish wood written
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. 147 - The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. "Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — " The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
Стр. 51 - 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. 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!
Стр. 130 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve!
Стр. 192 - 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...