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" 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. "
Theology in the English Poets: Cowper, Coleridge, Wordsworth and Burns - Página 129
de Stopford Augustus Brooke - 1874 - 339 páginas
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The book of poetry [ed. by B.G. Johns].

Book - 1847 - 216 páginas
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; Little we see in nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away — a sordid boon ! The sea,...winds, that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing we are out of tune ; It moves us...
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The book of poetry [ed. by B.G. Johns].

Book - 1847 - 206 páginas
...soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; Little we see in nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away — a sordid boon ! The sea,...winds, that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing we are out of tune ; It moves us...
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Notes from books, in four essays

sir Henry Taylor - 1849 - 328 páginas
...powers : Little we see in Nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The winds that...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...
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The Sacred Poets of England and America: For Three Centuries

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1849 - 578 páginas
...powers ; Little we see in nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The winds that...up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not. Great God ! I'd rather be A pagan, suckled in a...
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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume 3

William Wordsworth - 1849 - 378 páginas
...we see in Nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that hares her bosom to the moon ; The winds that will be howling...up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not. — Great God ! I 'd rather be A Pagan suckled in...
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The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - 382 páginas
...see in nature that is ours ; We've changed our hearts away — a sordid boon. Yon sea that bares its bosom to the moon — The winds that will be howling at all hours, But are upgathered now like sleeping flowers. For this — for all things we are out of tune, They...
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The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - 384 páginas
...see in nature that is ours ; We've changed our hearts away — a sordid boon. Yon sea that bares its bosom to the moon — The winds that will be howling at all hours, But are upgathered now like sleeping flowers. For this — for all things we are out of tune, They...
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English Literature of the Nineteenth Century ...

Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1851 - 780 páginas
...powers; Little we see in nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will...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...
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Select English poetry, with notes by E. Hughes

Edward Hughes - 1851 - 362 páginas
...powers : Little we see in Nature that is ours ; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The winds that...up-gathered now like sleeping flowers ; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not. — Great God ! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in...
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English Literature of the Nineteenth Century ...

Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1851 - 768 páginas
...our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will bo howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like...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...
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