Dorothy Wordsworth: The Story of a Sister's Love

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J. Clarke & Company, 1886 - 214 pages

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Page 74 - I wandered lonely as a cloud 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.
Page 22 - My dear, dear Friend ; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear, dear Sister!
Page 22 - tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash...
Page 54 - Shalt show us how divine a thing A Woman may be made. Thy thoughts and feelings shall not die, Nor leave thee, when grey hairs are nigh A melancholy slave; But an old age serene and bright, And lovely as a Lapland night, Shall lead thee to thy grave.
Page 23 - Nor wilt thou then forget, That after many wanderings, many years Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs, And this green pastoral landscape, were to me More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
Page 117 - I never saw daffodils so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones about and about them; some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness ; and the rest tossed and reeled and danced...
Page xii - own exceeding great reward ; ' it has soothed my afflictions ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me.
Page 49 - I AM not one who much or oft delight To season my fireside with personal talk, Of friends, who live within an easy walk, Or neighbours, daily, weekly, in my sight : And, for my chance-acquaintance, ladies bright, Sons, mothers, maidens withering on the stalk, These all wear out of me, like forms with chalk Painted on rich men's floors, for one feast-night Better than such discourse doth silence long, Long, barren silence, square with my desire...
Page 20 - IT is the first mild day of March : Each minute sweeter than before The redbreast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air, Which seems a sense, of joy to yield To the bare trees, and mountains bare, And grass in the green Held.
Page 91 - I be loth to stir? I feel this place was made for her; To give new pleasure like the past, Continued long as life shall last. Nor am I loth, though pleased at heart, Sweet Highland Girl!

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