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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth: In Six Volumes, Volume 1
Visualização completa - 1882
beautiful behold beneath Betty Foy blessed bower breath bright CALAIS calm cheerful child clouds cottage creature Dark Cloth dead dear deep delight doth dwell earth fair fear feel flowers folding star Foolscap 8vo Frontispiece and Vignette gentle Gilt Edges Glaramara Grasmere grave green grief grove happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour human Kent's green Kilve light living lofty lonely look Maria Monk mind moon morning Morocco mother mountain murmur Nature never night o'er pain peace Pilgrim's Progress Plain pleasure poor porringer rill rocks round Rylstone shade side sigh sight silent Skiddaw sleep smile solitary solitude song sorrow soul sound spake spirit spot stars steep stone stood stream sweet tears thee things thou art thought thrush trees Twas Twill vale voice walk Wanderer wild wind woods youth
Página 351 - THREE years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower On earth was never sown ! This child I to myself will take ; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. 'Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse ; and with me The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
Página 392 - The eye, it cannot choose but see ; We cannot bid the ear be still ; Our bodies feel, where'er they be, Against or with our will. " Nor less I deem that there are powers Which of themselves our minds impress ; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness.
Página 13 - 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.
Página 414 - Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
Página 388 - These beauteous forms. Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye : But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; And passing even into my purer mind. With tranquil restoration...
Página 351 - I saw her upon nearer view, A spirit yet a woman too ! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty ; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food, For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.
Página 390 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb...
Página 430 - Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee ; air, earth, and skies ; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee ; thou hast great allies ; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and Man's unconquerable mind V.
Página 346 - 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. — And they would shout Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call, — with quivering peals, And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild Of jocund din!
Página 420 - Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This city now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare Ships, towers, domes, theatres. and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will:...