 | William Wordsworth - 1807 - Страниц: 180
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The Winds that will be howling at all hours And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not — Great God ! I'd rather be A Pagan... | |
 | William Wordsworth, Dorothy Wordsworth - 1815 - Страниц: 438
...natural temple scattered o'er With altars undisturbed of mossy stone, United worship ; or in mute repose To lie, and listen to the mountain flood Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves. VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK COMB. THIS Height a ministering Angel might select : For from the summit... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1815 - Страниц: 442
...natural temple scattered o'er With altars undisturbed of mossy stone, United worship ; or in mute repose To lie, and listen to the mountain flood Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves. 304 VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK COMB. THIS Height a ministering Angel might select: For from the summit... | |
 | William Wordsworth, Dorothy Wordsworth - 1815 - Страниц: 416
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The Winds that will be howling at all hours And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not. — Great God ! I'd rather be A... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1815 - Страниц: 416
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The Winds that will be howling at all hours And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not. — Great God ! I'd rather be A... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1820 - Страниц: 372
...natural temple scattered o'er With altars undisturbed of mossy stone, United worship ; or in mute repose To lie, and listen to the mountain flood Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves. VI. VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK COMB. THIS Height a ministering Angel might select : For from the summit... | |
 | Leigh Hunt - 1820 - Страниц: 432
...',i , ., : This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; . „.| ,. t ., ., i -i . The Winds that will be howling at all hours, , And are upgathered now like sleeping flowers':'" For this, for every thing, we are out of tune; ' !•'•s'••-' '• • v.-nn .' It moves us not.... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1820 - Страниц: 362
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The Winds that will be howling at all hours And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not Great God ! I'd rather be A Pagan... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1827 - Страниц: 412
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The Winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not Great God ! I 'd rather be A Pagan... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1899 - Страниц: 308
...given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not — Great God ! I'd rather be A Pagan... | |
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THE world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 
