the poets of lhkeland wordsworth |
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Page 7
In Hawkshead market place , near where the assembly room now flourishes , a
grey boulder reared its huge round head : it was known far and near as Nanny -
Holme Stone , that being the name of an ancient dame , privileged to set up a
stall ...
In Hawkshead market place , near where the assembly room now flourishes , a
grey boulder reared its huge round head : it was known far and near as Nanny -
Holme Stone , that being the name of an ancient dame , privileged to set up a
stall ...
Page 24
... but shewed no more grooming - skill than his predecessors , for after twisting
the poor horse ' s neck almost to strangulation , and to the great danger of his
eyes , he gave up the useless task , pronouncing that the horse ' s head must
have ...
... but shewed no more grooming - skill than his predecessors , for after twisting
the poor horse ' s neck almost to strangulation , and to the great danger of his
eyes , he gave up the useless task , pronouncing that the horse ' s head must
have ...
Page 24
... but shewed no more grooming - skill than his predecessors , for after twisting
the poor horse ' s neck almost to strangulation , and to the great danger of his
eyes , he gave up the useless task , pronouncing that the horse ' s head must
have ...
... but shewed no more grooming - skill than his predecessors , for after twisting
the poor horse ' s neck almost to strangulation , and to the great danger of his
eyes , he gave up the useless task , pronouncing that the horse ' s head must
have ...
Page 37
This is particularly true with respect to the vale , properly so called , which
spreads between the head of Grasmere and Helm Crag , whose surface is almost
as unbroken as the lake , and which , clothed as it is with the freshest verdure ,
varied ...
This is particularly true with respect to the vale , properly so called , which
spreads between the head of Grasmere and Helm Crag , whose surface is almost
as unbroken as the lake , and which , clothed as it is with the freshest verdure ,
varied ...
Page 41
They grew among the mossy stones about them ; some rested their heads on
these stones as on a pillow ; the rest tossed , and reeled , and danced , and
seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind , they looked so gay and glancing '
.
They grew among the mossy stones about them ; some rested their heads on
these stones as on a pillow ; the rest tossed , and reeled , and danced , and
seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind , they looked so gay and glancing '
.
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appear bear beauty behold beneath breathe bright brother Coleridge course dark dear deep delight earth face fair faith father fear feeling fields flowers frame give given gone grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour human interest kind leave length less light lines live look mind morning mountains nature never night once pass peace perhaps pleasure poems poet rest rocks round season seat seems seen side sight silent soul sound speak spirit stand stone stood stream sweet thee things thou thought took trees truth turn vale voice walk Wanderer waters wild wind wish woods Wordsworth writing young youth
Popular passages
Page 340 - And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance, If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence...
Page 345 - Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! And let the young Lambs bound As to the tabor's sound! We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts today Feel the gladness of the May!
Page 318 - 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 waylay.
Page 346 - Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Page 346 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.
Page 339 - Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains ; and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eye, and ear, — both what they half create, And what perceive ; well pleased to recognise In nature and the language of the sense, The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being.
Page 345 - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel— I feel it all. Oh evil day! if I were sullen While Earth herself is adorning, This sweet May-morning, And the Children are culling On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers...
Page 26 - DURING the first year that Mr. Wordsworth and I were neighbours, our conversations turned frequently on the two cardinal points of poetry, the power of exciting the sympathy of the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth of nature, and the power of giving the interest of novelty by the modifying colours of imagination.
Page 124 - The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him; it was blessedness and love!
Page 345 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Bibliographic information
| Title | the poets of lhkeland wordsworth |
| Author | T. LINDSEY ASPLAND |
| Published | 1874 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 9 Aug 2006 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |