A Selection from the Sonnets of Wiliiam Wordsworth: With ... IllusHarper & brothers, 1890 - 86 pages |
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Page 10
... nook within this solemn Pass PAGE 26 27 28 28 30 30 32 33 34 34 36 36 38 40 40 42 44 44 45 45 46 46 47 47 48 48 • 50 50 51 51 52 52 2 2 4 4 54 54 5555 56 A SELECTION OF WORDSWORTH'S SONNETS . FIRST LINES OF SONNETS 10.
... nook within this solemn Pass PAGE 26 27 28 28 30 30 32 33 34 34 36 36 38 40 40 42 44 44 45 45 46 46 47 47 48 48 • 50 50 51 51 52 52 2 2 4 4 54 54 5555 56 A SELECTION OF WORDSWORTH'S SONNETS . FIRST LINES OF SONNETS 10.
Page 36
... nook Scooped out of living rock , and near a brook Hurled down a mountain - cove from stage to stage , Yet tempering , for my sight , its bustling rage In the soft heaven of a translucent pool ; Thence creeping under sylvan arches cool ...
... nook Scooped out of living rock , and near a brook Hurled down a mountain - cove from stage to stage , Yet tempering , for my sight , its bustling rage In the soft heaven of a translucent pool ; Thence creeping under sylvan arches cool ...
Page 40
... nook . Of his full bosom , gladsome Piety ! O FRIEND ! I know not which way I must look For comfort , being , as I am , opprest , To think that now our life is only drest For show ; mean handiwork of craftsman , cook , Or groom ! -We ...
... nook . Of his full bosom , gladsome Piety ! O FRIEND ! I know not which way I must look For comfort , being , as I am , opprest , To think that now our life is only drest For show ; mean handiwork of craftsman , cook , Or groom ! -We ...
Page 55
... wants Poesy a tongue To cheer the Itinerant on whom she pours Her spirit , while he crosses lonely moors , Or musing sits forsaken halls among . THE TROSACHS . HERE'S not a nook within this solemn. Adien, Rydalian Laurels! that have grown.
... wants Poesy a tongue To cheer the Itinerant on whom she pours Her spirit , while he crosses lonely moors , Or musing sits forsaken halls among . THE TROSACHS . HERE'S not a nook within this solemn. Adien, Rydalian Laurels! that have grown.
Page 56
... nook Hath stirred thee deeply ; with its own dear brook , Its own small pasture , almost its own sky ! But covet not the Abode ; -forbear to sigh , As many do , repining while they look ; Intruders who would tear from Nature's book This ...
... nook Hath stirred thee deeply ; with its own dear brook , Its own small pasture , almost its own sky ! But covet not the Abode ; -forbear to sigh , As many do , repining while they look ; Intruders who would tear from Nature's book This ...
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Common terms and phrases
ABBEY and ALFRED ALFRED PARSONS art thou AUSTIN DOBSON beauty beneath birds bold bosom bower breathe bright BRITON brook brow call thee calm cheerful cloud crest CUCKOO dear deep doom doth Drawings by EDWIN drest Duddon earth eyes fair Fancy fear flood flowers forlorn France friends Gilt Edges glide glittering gray green happy hath heart heaven hill holy hour immortal leaf Liberty lingering living lonely Meek mighty moon Morn mountain murmuring Muse Naiad Nature Nature's Night nook numbered o'er parley pensive perish plain pleased pleasure Poet Rill river RIVER DUDDON rock round roved scanty shade Shines Ship shore shouldst sigh sight silent sleep smooth Snow-drop soft SONNETS soul sound spirit splendour spread Star Stream sweet thine thou art thou hast thought trees UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN vale Venice voice Warbler watch waters wild wind Ye men
Popular passages
Page 47 - Two Voices are there ; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains ; each a mighty Voice : In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty...
Page 13 - NUNS fret not at their convent's narrow room; And hermits are contented with their cells; And students with their pensive citadels; Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom, Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom, High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells, Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells: In truth the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is...
Page 77 - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen!
Page 42 - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great 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 26 - SURPRISED by joy — impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport — Oh ! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find ? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind — But how could I forget thee ! Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss ? — That thought's return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing...
Page 13 - SCORN not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakspeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow: a glow-worm lamp. It...
Page 77 - The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea. Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder — everlastingly. Dear Child ! dear Girl ! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine. Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year ; And worship'st at the Temple's inner shrine, God being...
Page 24 - Sleepless; and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees ; And the first Cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep ! by any stealth : So do not let me...
Page 46 - Was like a lake, or river bright and fair, A span of waters ; yet what power is there ! What mightiness for evil and for good ! Even so doth God protect us if we be Virtuous and wise. Winds blow, and waters roll, Strength to the brave, and power, and deity, Yet in themselves are nothing...
Page 86 - Why art thou silent ? Is thy love a plant Of such weak fibre that the treacherous air Of absence withers what was once so fair ? Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant ? Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilant, Bound to thy service with unceasing care — The mind's least generous wish a mendicant For nought but what thy happiness could spare.