Wordsworth to DobellThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1884 - English poetry |
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Page 16
... heaven : but they fade , The mist and the river , the hill and the shade : The stream will not flow , and the hill will not rise , And the colours have all passed away from her eyes . ( 1797 ? ) EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY . ' Why , William ...
... heaven : but they fade , The mist and the river , the hill and the shade : The stream will not flow , and the hill will not rise , And the colours have all passed away from her eyes . ( 1797 ? ) EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY . ' Why , William ...
Page 23
... heaven be sent , If such be Nature's holy plan , Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man ? ( 1798. ) A POET'S EPITAPH . Art thou a Statist in the WILLIAM WORDSWORTH . 23 Lines composed near Tintern Abbey Lines written in ...
... heaven be sent , If such be Nature's holy plan , Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man ? ( 1798. ) A POET'S EPITAPH . Art thou a Statist in the WILLIAM WORDSWORTH . 23 Lines composed near Tintern Abbey Lines written in ...
Page 24
... Heaven knows how ! to this poor sod : And he has neither eyes nor ears ; Himself his world , and his own God ; One to whose smooth - rubbed soul can cling Nor form , nor feeling , great or small ; A reasoning , self - sufficing thing ...
... Heaven knows how ! to this poor sod : And he has neither eyes nor ears ; Himself his world , and his own God ; One to whose smooth - rubbed soul can cling Nor form , nor feeling , great or small ; A reasoning , self - sufficing thing ...
Page 27
... heaven we all shall meet ! ' -When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet . Then downwards from the steep hill's edge They tracked the footmarks small ; And through the broken hawthorn hedge , And by the long stone - wall ...
... heaven we all shall meet ! ' -When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet . Then downwards from the steep hill's edge They tracked the footmarks small ; And through the broken hawthorn hedge , And by the long stone - wall ...
Page 28
... heaven , in glade and bower , Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain . She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs ; And hers shall be the breathing balm , And hers the ...
... heaven , in glade and bower , Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain . She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs ; And hers shall be the breathing balm , And hers the ...
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Common terms and phrases
Artemidora ballads beauty behold beneath breast breath bright Brignall brow Byron calm Charles Lamb Childe Harold cloud cold Coleridge County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth Ebenezer Elliott EDWARD DOWDEN Emily Brontë English eyes fair Fanny Brawne fear feel flowers gaze gentle grace grave green hand happy Hartley Coleridge hast hath hear heard heart heaven Heigho hills hour JOHN KEATS Keats lady Leigh Hunt light live lone look mind moon mortal mountains nature ne'er never night o'er passion poems poet poetic poetry rose round Samian wine shade Shelley sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought trees truth Twas verse voice WALTER LANDOR wandering waves well-a-day wild wind Wordsworth youth
Popular passages
Page 455 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 28 - 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. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Page 324 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Page 451 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Page 60 - Forebode not any severing of our loves ! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway, I love the Brooks, which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they: The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet ; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Page 450 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare ; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet do not grieve: She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss; For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Page 324 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Page 449 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Page 19 - To them I may have owed another gift, 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...
Page 21 - All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. 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.