The Poems of William Wordsworth, Volym 3Methuen, 1908 |
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Sida 1
... speak for him . And surely Small cause there is for that fond wish of ours Long to continue in this world ; a world That keeps not faith , nor yet can point a hope To good , whereof itself is destitute . II Published 1837 ERHAPS some ...
... speak for him . And surely Small cause there is for that fond wish of ours Long to continue in this world ; a world That keeps not faith , nor yet can point a hope To good , whereof itself is destitute . II Published 1837 ERHAPS some ...
Sida 10
... speak with mind serene . 40 Then , Beaumont , Friend ! who would have been the Friend , If he had lived , of Him whom I deplore , This work of thine I blame not , but commend ; This sea in anger , and that dismal shore . O'tis a ...
... speak with mind serene . 40 Then , Beaumont , Friend ! who would have been the Friend , If he had lived , of Him whom I deplore , This work of thine I blame not , but commend ; This sea in anger , and that dismal shore . O'tis a ...
Sida 20
... speak of Thee ! If sculptured emblems of our mortal doom Recall not there the wisdom of the Tomb , Green ivy risen from out the cheerful earth Will fringe the lettered stone ; and herbs spring forth , Whose fragrance , by soft dews and ...
... speak of Thee ! If sculptured emblems of our mortal doom Recall not there the wisdom of the Tomb , Green ivy risen from out the cheerful earth Will fringe the lettered stone ; and herbs spring forth , Whose fragrance , by soft dews and ...
Sida 22
... speak ( tho ' still Awed by the theme's peculiar sanctity Which words less free presumed not even to touch ) Of that fraternal love , whose heaven - lit lamp From infancy , through manhood , to the last Of threescore years , and to thy ...
... speak ( tho ' still Awed by the theme's peculiar sanctity Which words less free presumed not even to touch ) Of that fraternal love , whose heaven - lit lamp From infancy , through manhood , to the last Of threescore years , and to thy ...
Sida 27
... speak of something that is gone : The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat : Whither is fled the visionary gleam ? Where is it now , the glory and the dream ? V Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting : The Soul that rises with ...
... speak of something that is gone : The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat : Whither is fled the visionary gleam ? Where is it now , the glory and the dream ? V Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting : The Soul that rises with ...
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The Poems of William Wordsworth: Collected Reading Texts from the Cornell ... William Wordsworth Begränsad förhandsgranskning - 2009 |
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acknowledged law Alps amid aught beauty behold beneath breast breath bright calm cheerful clouds cottage dark dear deep delight doth earth evermore faith fancy fear feel fields flowers France Friend grace Grasmere grave green groves hand happy happy feet hath heard heart heaven Helvellyn hills honour hope hour human labour less light living lonely look maternal bonds metre mind moorland mountains mused nature Nature's night o'er once pain passed passion peace pleased pleasure Poems Poet pure quiet rapture rill rocks round RYDAL MOUNT sate seemed shade side sight silent sleep smile smooth solitude song sorrow soul sound spake speak spirit stars stood stream sublime sweet tender thee things thou thoughts trees truth turned twas vale verse voice walk Wanderer whence wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH winds woods words youth ΤΟ
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Sida 29 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife ? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life ! IX.
Sida 500 - Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep : so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.
Sida 30 - To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober coloring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Sida 41 - 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. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired. No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request; Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving...
Sida 485 - The principal object, then, which I proposed to myself in these poems was to choose incidents and situations from common life, and to relate or describe them, throughout, as far as was possible, in a selection of language really used by men, and, at the.
Sida 488 - In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; 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...
Sida 31 - 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.
Sida 28 - 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
Sida 314 - Black drizzling crags that spake by the way-side As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream, The unfettered clouds and region of the Heavens, Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light — 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.
Sida 295 - To move along the edges of the hills, Rising or setting, would he stand alone, Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake ; And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, That they might answer him.