the poets of lhkeland wordsworth |
From inside the book
Results 6-10 of 42
Page 146
Oh ! then how beautiful , how bright , appear ' d The written Promise . Early had
he learn ' d To reverence the Volume that displays The mystery — the life which
cannot die : But in the mountains did he feel his faith ; There did he see the
writing ...
Oh ! then how beautiful , how bright , appear ' d The written Promise . Early had
he learn ' d To reverence the Volume that displays The mystery — the life which
cannot die : But in the mountains did he feel his faith ; There did he see the
writing ...
Page 161
... limbs at ease Upon a bed of heath — ' full many a spot Of hidden beauty have I
chanced tespy Among the mountains ; never one like this ; So lonesome , and so
perfectly secure : Not melancholy — no , for it is green , And bright , and fertile ...
... limbs at ease Upon a bed of heath — ' full many a spot Of hidden beauty have I
chanced tespy Among the mountains ; never one like this ; So lonesome , and so
perfectly secure : Not melancholy — no , for it is green , And bright , and fertile ...
Page 170
Though I am conscious that no power of words Can body forth , no hues of
speech can paint That gorgeous spectacle — too bright and fair Even for
remembrance ; yet the attempt may give Collateral interest to this homely tale .
Though I am conscious that no power of words Can body forth , no hues of
speech can paint That gorgeous spectacle — too bright and fair Even for
remembrance ; yet the attempt may give Collateral interest to this homely tale .
Page 173
... on that couch inviting us to rest , Towards that tender - hearted man he turn ' d
A serious eye , and thus his speech renew ' d :" You never saw , your eyes did
never look On the bright form of her whom once I loved : Her silver voice was
heard ...
... on that couch inviting us to rest , Towards that tender - hearted man he turn ' d
A serious eye , and thus his speech renew ' d :" You never saw , your eyes did
never look On the bright form of her whom once I loved : Her silver voice was
heard ...
Page 174
Wild were the walks upon those lonely downs , Track leading into track , how
mark ' d , how worn Into bright verdure , among fern and gorse , Winding away its
never - ending line On their smooth surface , evidence was none : But there lay ...
Wild were the walks upon those lonely downs , Track leading into track , how
mark ' d , how worn Into bright verdure , among fern and gorse , Winding away its
never - ending line On their smooth surface , evidence was none : But there lay ...
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
appear bear beauty behold beneath breathe bright brother Coleridge course dark dear deep delight earth face fair faith father fear feeling fields flowers frame give given gone grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour human interest kind leave length less light lines live look mind morning mountains nature never night once pass peace perhaps pleasure poems poet rest rocks round season seat seems seen side sight silent soul sound speak spirit stand stone stood stream sweet thee things thou thought took trees truth turn vale voice walk Wanderer waters wild wind wish woods Wordsworth writing young youth
Popular passages
Page 340 - And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance, If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence...
Page 345 - Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! And let the young Lambs bound As to the tabor's sound! We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts today Feel the gladness of the May!
Page 318 - 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 waylay.
Page 346 - Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Page 346 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour 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 339 - 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 345 - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel— I feel it all. Oh evil day! if I were sullen While Earth herself is adorning, This sweet May-morning, And the Children are culling On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers...
Page 26 - DURING the first year that Mr. Wordsworth and I were neighbours, our conversations turned frequently on the two cardinal points of poetry, the power of exciting the sympathy of the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth of nature, and the power of giving the interest of novelty by the modifying colours of imagination.
Page 124 - The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him; it was blessedness and love!
Page 345 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Bibliographic information
| Title | the poets of lhkeland wordsworth |
| Author | T. LINDSEY ASPLAND |
| Published | 1874 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 9 Aug 2006 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |