The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume 1Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green & Longman, 1832 - English poetry |
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Page xxv
... sweet voice the Stock - dove broods ; " of the same bird , " His voice was buried among trees , Yet to be come at by the breeze ; " O , Cuckoo ! shall I call thee Bird , Or but a wandering Voice ? " The Stock - dove is said to coo , a ...
... sweet voice the Stock - dove broods ; " of the same bird , " His voice was buried among trees , Yet to be come at by the breeze ; " O , Cuckoo ! shall I call thee Bird , Or but a wandering Voice ? " The Stock - dove is said to coo , a ...
Page xxxix
... sweet ; Then let the chill Sirocco blow , And gird us round with hills of snow , Or else go whistle to the shore , And make the hollow mountains roar , Whilst we together jovial sit Careless , and crowned with mirth and wit , Where ...
... sweet ; Then let the chill Sirocco blow , And gird us round with hills of snow , Or else go whistle to the shore , And make the hollow mountains roar , Whilst we together jovial sit Careless , and crowned with mirth and wit , Where ...
Page 8
... Sweet Little - ones , is passed Since your dear Mother went away , And she to - morrow will return ; To - morrow is the happy day . O blessed tidings ! thought of joy ! The eldest heard with steady glee ; Silent he stood ; then laughed ...
... Sweet Little - ones , is passed Since your dear Mother went away , And she to - morrow will return ; To - morrow is the happy day . O blessed tidings ! thought of joy ! The eldest heard with steady glee ; Silent he stood ; then laughed ...
Page 10
... sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen . " To - night will be a stormy night- You to the Town must go ; And take a lantern , Child , to light Your mother through the snow . " " That , Father ! will I gladly do : ' Tis scarcely ...
... sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen . " To - night will be a stormy night- You to the Town must go ; And take a lantern , Child , to light Your mother through the snow . " " That , Father ! will I gladly do : ' Tis scarcely ...
Page 12
... sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome Wild . O'er rough and smooth she trips along , And never looks behind ; And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind . VIII . WE ARE SEVEN . A simple Child , That lightly draws its breath , And ...
... sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome Wild . O'er rough and smooth she trips along , And never looks behind ; And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind . VIII . WE ARE SEVEN . A simple Child , That lightly draws its breath , And ...
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Common terms and phrases
Alps art thou beneath Benjamin Betty Betty Foy Bird bowers breast breath bright Brother CHARLES LAMB cheer Child church-yard cliffs clouds Coleorton cottage crag dear delight door Ennerdale eyes Fancy Father fear feel flowers Friend gone Grasmere grave green happy hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven hills hope hour Idiot Boy images Imagination Johnny Kilve Lamb LEONARD light living look lyre mind Moon morning Mother mountain nature never night o'er Ossian pain Paradise Lost pleasure Poems Poet poetry porringer PRIEST racter Reader rill rocks round shade Shakspeare Shepherd side sight silent sing Skiddaw sleep smiles snow solitude song soul sound spirit spot star steep stone Sugh summer Susan sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought trees Twas vale voice Waggon ween wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wood youth
Popular passages
Page xxvii - As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie Couched on the bald top of an eminence ; Wonder to all who do the same espy, By what means it could thither come, and whence; So that it seems a thing endued with sense : Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself...
Page 122 - I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee. 'Tis past, that melancholy dream! Nor will I quit thy shore A second time; for still I seem To love thee more and more. Among thy mountains did I feel The joy of my desire; And she I cherished turned her wheel Beside an English fire. Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed The bowers where Lucy played; And thine too is the last green field That Lucy's eyes surveyed.
Page 14 - Then did the little maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard tree." "You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Page 120 - My horse moved on; hoof after hoof He raised, and never stopped : When down behind the cottage roof, At once, the bright moon dropped. What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a lover's head! "O mercy!" to myself I cried, "If Lucy should be dead!
Page 336 - Works, it is this, — that every author, as far as he is great and at the same time original, has had the task of creating the taste by which he is to be enjoyed : so has it been, so will it continue to be.
Page 252 - Joyous as morning, Thou art laughing and scorning ; Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, And, though little troubled with sloth, Drunken Lark ! thou would'st be loth To be such a traveller as I. Happy, happy Liver, With a soul as strong as a mountain River Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver...
Page 12 - They followed from the snowy bank Those footmarks, one by one, Into the middle of the plank ; And further there were none...
Page 182 - And with his kinsman's help and his own thrift He quickly will repair this loss, and then He may return to us. If here he stay, What can be done? Where every one is poor, What can be gained?
Page 4 - Oh ! pleasant, pleasant were the days, The time, when, in our childish plays, My sister Emmeline and I Together chased the butterfly ! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey : — with leaps and springs I followed on from brake to bush ; But she, God love her ! feared to brush The dust from off its wings.
Page 20 - What ails thee, young One? what? Why pull so at thy cord ? Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be; Rest, little young One, rest; what is't that aileth thee?