The Complete Poetical Works of William WordsworthMoxon, 1869 - Всего страниц: 704 |
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Стр. 223
... sound Of something without place or bound ; And seemed to give me spiritual ... Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound . No Nightingale did ever chaunt Mare welcome notes to weary bands ... more humble lay , Fair matter of to - day ! > ce ...
... sound Of something without place or bound ; And seemed to give me spiritual ... Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound . No Nightingale did ever chaunt Mare welcome notes to weary bands ... more humble lay , Fair matter of to - day ! > ce ...
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aught beauty behold beneath bird blest bowers breast breath bright calm cheer child clouds creature Cuckoo dark dear deep delight doth earth fair faith fancy fear feel flowers Friend Furness Abbey gentle grace Grasmere grave green grove hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill holy honour hope hour human Idon labour light living lonely look MARMADUKE mind morning mountain Muse nature Nature's never night o'er pain passed passion peace Peter Bell pleasure Poem Poet praise rapture rest rill RIVER DUDDON RIVER EDEN rock round RYDAL MOUNT Rylstone Scotland shade side sight silent SIMPLON PASS sleep smooth song Sonnet sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou thought trees truth Twas Ulpha vale voice wandering wild wind woods words Yarrow youth
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Стр. 430 - Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster-child, her inmate, Man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his newborn blisses, A six years
Стр. 131 - A Being breathing thoughtful breath, A Traveller between life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
Стр. 129 - Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. "Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery...
Стр. 430 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy soul's immensity ; Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal Mind, — Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave ; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the day, a master o'er a slave, A Presence which is not to be put by...
Стр. 468 - Were all like workings of one mind, the features Of the same face, blossoms upon one tree ; Characters of the great Apocalypse, The types and symbols of Eternity, Of first, and last, and midst, and without end.
Стр. 46 - A SIMPLE child That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage girl : She was eight years old she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad ; 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,
Стр. 429 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Стр. 437 - 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. 518 - Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy ; his spirit drank The spectacle : sensation, soul, and form All melted into him ; they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live ; they were his life.
Стр. 437 - That spectacle, for many days, my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being ; o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes Remained, no pleasant images of trees, Of sea or sky, no colours of green fields ; But huge and mighty forms, that do not live Like living men, moved slowly through the mind By day, and were a trouble to my dreams.