The Poetical Works of WordsworthJ. W. Lovell Company, 1881 - 707 pages |
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Page 15
... Dark is the ground ; a slumber seems to steal O'er vale , and mountain , and the starfess sky . Now , in this blank of things , a harmony , Home - felt , and home - created , comes to heal That grief for which the senses still supply ...
... Dark is the ground ; a slumber seems to steal O'er vale , and mountain , and the starfess sky . Now , in this blank of things , a harmony , Home - felt , and home - created , comes to heal That grief for which the senses still supply ...
Page 20
... dark earth the wearied vision fails ; The latest lingerer of the forest train , The lone black fir , forsakes the faded plain ; Last evening sight , the cottage smoke , no more , Lost in the thickened darkness , glimmers hoar ; And ...
... dark earth the wearied vision fails ; The latest lingerer of the forest train , The lone black fir , forsakes the faded plain ; Last evening sight , the cottage smoke , no more , Lost in the thickened darkness , glimmers hoar ; And ...
Page 21
... dark - blue faint silvery threads divide The hills , while gleams below the azure tide ; Time softly treads ; throughout the land- scape breathes A peace enlivened , not disturbed , by wreaths Of charcoal - smoke , that o'er the fallen ...
... dark - blue faint silvery threads divide The hills , while gleams below the azure tide ; Time softly treads ; throughout the land- scape breathes A peace enlivened , not disturbed , by wreaths Of charcoal - smoke , that o'er the fallen ...
Page 26
... Dark is the region as with coming night ; But what a sudden burst of overpowering light ! Triumphant on the bosom of the storm , Glances the wheeling eagle's glorious form ! Eastward , in long perspective glittering , shine The wood ...
... Dark is the region as with coming night ; But what a sudden burst of overpowering light ! Triumphant on the bosom of the storm , Glances the wheeling eagle's glorious form ! Eastward , in long perspective glittering , shine The wood ...
Page 30
... dark sea - weed lashes Scotland's shores ; To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breath- ing rose , Still have I found , where Tyranny prevails , And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows ; That virtue languishes and pleasure fails , While the ...
... dark sea - weed lashes Scotland's shores ; To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breath- ing rose , Still have I found , where Tyranny prevails , And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows ; That virtue languishes and pleasure fails , While the ...
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Common terms and phrases
art thou aught beauty behold beneath Betty Foy bird blest bower breast breath bright calm cheer Child clouds dark dear deep delight doth dread dream earth fair faith Fancy fear feel flowers Friend gentle gleam glory grace Grasmere grave green grove hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven Helvellyn hill hope hour human Idon light live lonely look MARMADUKE Martha Ray meek mind moon morning mountains Muse Nature Nature's never night o'er pain peace Peter Bell pleasure poor quire rapture rills rock round RYDAL MOUNT Rylstone shade side sigh sight silent SIMPLON PASS Skiddaw sleep soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought trees truth Twas vale voice wandering ween wild wind wings woods Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 189 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her ; '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 judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is...
Page 104 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Page 233 - God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Page 188 - Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood, In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, 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...
Page 500 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now forever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor 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 499 - Shaped by himself with newly-learned art; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, 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, And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his "humorous stage...
Page 271 - Thou fought'st against him ; but hast vainly striven : Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft : Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left; For, high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be That Mountain floods should thunder as before.
Page 257 - Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang As if her song could have no ending ; I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending ; — I listened, motionless and still ; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.
Page 422 - Is placable, because occasions rise So often that demand such sacrifice ; More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure, As tempted more ; more able to endure, As more exposed to suffering and distress ; Thence, also, more alive to tenderness...
Page 187 - Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie ; His daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.