William Wordsworth: A BiographyCash, 1856 - Всего страниц: 508 |
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Стр. iv
... hand . " I have thought that there is a need for some such expo- sition as this volume professes to be , and while I feel that I have brought to the self - imposed task few other qualifications than affectionate reverence , I still hope ...
... hand . " I have thought that there is a need for some such expo- sition as this volume professes to be , and while I feel that I have brought to the self - imposed task few other qualifications than affectionate reverence , I still hope ...
Стр. 6
... wrought as a piece of sculpture , it should be the result of an acquaintance with the subject of it ; -but what ac- quaintance ? There are men who must be seen near at BIRTH . hand to be painted , others are sketched 6 BIOGRAPHY .
... wrought as a piece of sculpture , it should be the result of an acquaintance with the subject of it ; -but what ac- quaintance ? There are men who must be seen near at BIRTH . hand to be painted , others are sketched 6 BIOGRAPHY .
Стр. 7
A Biography Edwin Paxton Hood. BIRTH . hand to be painted , others are sketched best from a distance . The writer of this volume lays claim to no more personal knowledge of Mr. Wordsworth than that possessed by thousands , resident both ...
A Biography Edwin Paxton Hood. BIRTH . hand to be painted , others are sketched best from a distance . The writer of this volume lays claim to no more personal knowledge of Mr. Wordsworth than that possessed by thousands , resident both ...
Стр. 27
... hand its turbulent waves , thus all things conspire to rend the young spirit to whom serious thought addresses itself . All things are saying to it , Watch , Wait , but Aspire . Home Education is very beautiful ; it is a lovely the- ory ...
... hand its turbulent waves , thus all things conspire to rend the young spirit to whom serious thought addresses itself . All things are saying to it , Watch , Wait , but Aspire . Home Education is very beautiful ; it is a lovely the- ory ...
Стр. 60
... hand ; and it is as difficult to conceive how his style of prose , so singularly desti- tute of ease or humour , or flexibility , could ever have accommodated itself to the pages of a newspaper ; life however was beginning to assume to ...
... hand ; and it is as difficult to conceive how his style of prose , so singularly desti- tute of ease or humour , or flexibility , could ever have accommodated itself to the pages of a newspaper ; life however was beginning to assume to ...
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admiration ancient Artist beautiful beheld beloved beauty beneath Bishopsgate character charm cloth clouds Coleridge deep delight Drama emotions faith fancy feel felt flowers Foolscap 8vo forms FREDERIC BASTIAT FREDERICK G genius Goethe grace Grasmere Grecian Hartley Coleridge Hawkshead heard heart heaven Helvellyn hills homage human illustration impressions interest Jeffrey JOSEPH MURRAY lake Laodamia light live lofty look Lord Malham Cove mental mighty Milton mind moral mountain nature never objects painting passed passion perhaps Peter Bell poems Poet Poet's poetry portrait principles Quincey reader Review RICHARD COBDEN Robert Southey rock round Rydal Rylstone scenery seems seen sense solitude Sonnets sorrow soul sound Southey spirit sublime sympathy thee things thou thought tion true truth utterance verse village voice walk whole wild William Wordsworth Windermere winds woman wonderful words writings youth
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Стр. 366 - O FRIEND ! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show ; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom ! We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest : The wealthiest man among us is the best : No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry ; and these we adore : Plain living and high thinking are no more : The homely beauty of the good old cause...
Стр. 332 - The wind, the tempest roaring high, The tumult of a tropic sky, Might well be dangerous food For him, a Youth to whom was given So much of earth — so much of Heaven, And such impetuous blood.
Стр. 363 - Milton ! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Стр. 363 - Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
Стр. 17 - When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once Have I, reclining back upon my heels, Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs Wheeled by me — even as if the earth had rolled With visible motion her diurnal round!
Стр. 377 - I trust is their destiny, to console the afflicted, to add sunshine to daylight by making the happy happier, to teach the young and the gracious of every age, to see, to think and feel, and therefore to become more actively and securely virtuous; this is their office, which I trust they will faithfully perform long after we (that is, all that is mortal of us) are mouldered in our graves.
Стр. 326 - ... During the first year that Mr. Wordsworth and I were neighbours, our conversations turned frequently on the two cardinal points of poetry, the power of exciting the sympathy of the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth of nature, and the power of giving the interest of novelty by the modifying colours of imagination.
Стр. 47 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Стр. 324 - Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Стр. 166 - There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer; The crags repeat the raven's croak, In symphony austere; Thither the rainbow comes — the cloud — And mists that spread the flying shroud; And sunbeams; and the sounding blast, That, if it could, would hurry past; But that enormous barrier holds it fast.