The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Том 4Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown and Green, 1827 |
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Стр. 11
... doth a delicate shadow fall , Falls upon her like a breath , From some lofty arch or wall , As she passes underneath : - Now some gloomy nook partakes Of the glory that she makes , High - ribbed vault of stone , or cell With perfect ...
... doth a delicate shadow fall , Falls upon her like a breath , From some lofty arch or wall , As she passes underneath : - Now some gloomy nook partakes Of the glory that she makes , High - ribbed vault of stone , or cell With perfect ...
Стр. 13
... doth she Lie down in peace , and lovingly . ― The day is placid in its going , To a lingering motion bound , Like the river in its flowing Can there be a softer sound ? So the balmy minutes pass , While this radiant Creature lies ...
... doth she Lie down in peace , and lovingly . ― The day is placid in its going , To a lingering motion bound , Like the river in its flowing Can there be a softer sound ? So the balmy minutes pass , While this radiant Creature lies ...
Стр. 15
... doth she keep from year to year , Her sabbath morning , foul or fair . " This whisper soft repeats what he Had known from early infancy . Bright is the Creature as in dreams The Boy had seen her yea more bright ; But is she truly what ...
... doth she keep from year to year , Her sabbath morning , foul or fair . " This whisper soft repeats what he Had known from early infancy . Bright is the Creature as in dreams The Boy had seen her yea more bright ; But is she truly what ...
Стр. 17
... doth come and go , In the beautiful form of this innocent Doe : Which , though seemingly doomed in its breast to sustain A softened remembrance of sorrow and pain , Is spotless , and holy , and gentle , and bright ; And glides o'er the ...
... doth come and go , In the beautiful form of this innocent Doe : Which , though seemingly doomed in its breast to sustain A softened remembrance of sorrow and pain , Is spotless , and holy , and gentle , and bright ; And glides o'er the ...
Стр. 51
... doth she lie ; Happy as others of her kind , That , far from human neighbourhood , Range unrestricted as the wind , Through park , or chase , or savage wood . But where at this still hour is she , The consecrated Emily ? Even while I ...
... doth she lie ; Happy as others of her kind , That , far from human neighbourhood , Range unrestricted as the wind , Through park , or chase , or savage wood . But where at this still hour is she , The consecrated Emily ? Even while I ...
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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth: With a Memoir, Том 4 William Wordsworth Полный просмотр - 1865 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Banner Barden Fell Barden Tower beautiful behold beneath bless Bolton Bolton Abbey bowers brave breast breath bright calm Canute cheer Child city of Durham Coniston Creature curacy dark dear deep delight doth Duddon earth Emily endeavour fair fear feelings flowers Francis Friend gentle gliding grace grave green hand happy hath hear heard heart Heaven hill holy honour hope human Isle of Walney Lady language live lonely look Lord Loweswater Maid metre mind morning mortal Mother mountain murmur nature Norton o'er passion peace pleasure Poem Poet Poetry prayer Reader River RIVER DUDDON Robert Walker rocks round Rylstone Seathwaite side sigh sight silent Simon rouse sing smooth solitude song Sonnets sorrow soul spirit spread stand stood sweet tears thee things thou thought Tower Trajan trees Ulpha vale voice Wharf whence White Doe wind youth
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Стр. 350 - Upon the growing Boy, But He beholds the light, and whence it flows, He sees it in his joy; The Youth, who daily farther from the east Must travel, still is Nature's Priest, And by the vision splendid Is on his way attended; At length the Man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day.
Стр. 213 - I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran ; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
Стр. 360 - 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 ; because in that condition of life our elementary feelings coexist in a state of greater simplicity, and, consequently, may be more accurately contemplated, and more forcibly communicated...
Стр. 352 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized...
Стр. 294 - The task, in smoother walks to stray; But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may. Through no disturbance of my soul, Or strong compunction in me wrought, I supplicate for thy control; But in the quietness of thought: Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose that ever is the same.
Стр. 350 - See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, Some fragment from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learned art ; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral...
Стр. 347 - As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong...
Стр. 333 - So once it would have been, — 'tis so no more ; I have submitted to a new control : A power is gone, which nothing can restore ; A deep distress hath humanised my Soul.
Стр. 367 - And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear And weep the more because I weep in vain.
Стр. 367 - ... that not only the language of a large portion of every good poem, even of the most elevated character, must necessarily, except with reference to the metre, in no respect differ from that of good prose, but likewise that some of the most interesting parts of 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, even of Milton himself.