O que estão dizendo - Escrever uma resenha
Não encontramos nenhuma resenha nos lugares comuns.
Outras edições - Visualizar todos
Ambleside beauty behold beneath bird BLACK COMB blest bloom bower breast breath breeze bright BROUGHAM CASTLE brow calm cheer child clouds curious pastime dark dear deep delight divine doth dread dwell earth ethereal fair faith Fancy fear flowers gazed gentle gleam glory glowworm grace Grasmere green grove happy hath head heard heart heaven Helvellyn hill hope hour Laodamia light living lofty lonely look Lord Clifford Martha Ray mind moon morning mortal mountain murmur Muse Naiad Nature Nature's never night o'er pensive Peter Bell pleasure poor Protesilaus rapture rills river Swale rocks round shade shining side sight silent Skiddaw sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spot Spring stars stir stone stream sweet tears thee thine things Thorn thoughts trees vale voice wandering ween wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wings woods Ye banded Youth
Página 126 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Página 128 - 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 191 - Oh ! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief, Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance, If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice...
Página 341 - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Página 130 - A SLUMBER did my spirit seal ; •^*- I had no human fears : She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force ; She neither hears nor sees ; Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, and stones, and trees.
Página 155 - There was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods...
Página 117 - Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise Has carried far into his heart the voice Of mountain torrents ; or the visible scene Would enter unawares into his mind With all its solemn imagery, its rocks, Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received Into the bosom of the steady lake.
Página 131 - That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils ; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay : Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced ; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee : A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund...
Página 129 - 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. ' She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs ; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things.
Página 196 - ETHEREAL minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky ! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound ? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground? Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still ! To the last point of vision, and beyond, Mount, daring warbler!