The Complete Poetical Works of William Wordsworth

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Moxon, 1869 - 704 páginas
 

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Página 422 - 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
Página 123 - 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.
Página 121 - 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...
Página 422 - 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...
Página 460 - 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.
Página 38 - 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,
Página 421 - 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.
Página 429 - 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...
Página 510 - 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.
Página 429 - 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.

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