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appeared ASTOR Beaumont beautiful beneath blessings breath bright brother called clouds COCKERMOUTH Coleridge Cottage dark dear deep delight Dorothy earth fear feel fields flowers forms garden give Grasmere green grove hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour human Italy Lady Lake leave LENOX less letter light lines living look mind morning Mount mountains Nature never night Note object once passed peace persons pleasure poems poet present PUBLIC rest rock round Rydal seemed seen side sight sister sleep soul sound speak spirit stream summer sweet thee things thou thoughts TILDEN trees truth turn Vale valley verse voice walk wild wind wish woods Wordsworth write written
Page 162 - 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.
Page 107 - 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 104 - Is lightened — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Page 185 - Ah ! THEN, if mine had been the Painter's hand, To express what then I saw ; and add the gleam, The light that never was, on sea or land, The consecration, and the Poet's dream...
Page 91 - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure: — But the least motion which they made It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there.
Page 195 - Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
Page 238 - And unto this he frames his song: Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside...
Page 235 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Page 99 - THERE was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs And islands of Winander! — many a time, At evening, when the earliest stars began To move along the edges of the hills, Rising or setting, would he stand alone, Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake; And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, That they might answer him.