The Sonnets of William WordsworthJ.M. Dent and Company, 1899 - 285 pagina's |
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Pagina 6
... things . From the submissive necks of guiltless men Stretched on the block the glittering axe recoils ; Sun , moon , and stars , all struggle in the toils Of mortal sympathy ; what wonder then That the poor Harp distempered music yields ...
... things . From the submissive necks of guiltless men Stretched on the block the glittering axe recoils ; Sun , moon , and stars , all struggle in the toils Of mortal sympathy ; what wonder then That the poor Harp distempered music yields ...
Pagina 9
... thing As this low structure , for the tasks of Spring Prepared by one who loves the buoyant swell Of the brisk waves , yet here consents to dwell ; And spreads in steadfast peace her brooding wing . Words cannot paint the o'ershadowing ...
... thing As this low structure , for the tasks of Spring Prepared by one who loves the buoyant swell Of the brisk waves , yet here consents to dwell ; And spreads in steadfast peace her brooding wing . Words cannot paint the o'ershadowing ...
Pagina 18
... thing , 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 ...
... thing , 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 ...
Pagina 19
... thing , so transient is the blaze ! " Thus might be paint our lot of mortal days Who wants the glorious faculty assigned To elevate the more - than - reasoning Mind , And colour life's dark cloud with orient rays . Imagination is that ...
... thing , so transient is the blaze ! " Thus might be paint our lot of mortal days Who wants the glorious faculty assigned To elevate the more - than - reasoning Mind , And colour life's dark cloud with orient rays . Imagination is that ...
Pagina 20
... Thing became a trumpet ; whence he blew Soul - animating strains - alas , too few ! A saunter How sweet it is ... things , that at last in fear I shrink , And leap at once from the delicious stream . HIGH is our calling , Friend ...
... Thing became a trumpet ; whence he blew Soul - animating strains - alas , too few ! A saunter How sweet it is ... things , that at last in fear I shrink , And leap at once from the delicious stream . HIGH is our calling , Friend ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
ancient aught beauty behold blest bold bowers breath bright brow Calais calm cheer Church clouds Cocytus crown dares dark dear death divine doom doth dread dream Duddon earth England eternal faith Fancy fear flowers gaze gleam glory grace green hand haply hath heart Heaven hill holy honour hope hour human Iona land Liberty light meek mighty mind morn mortal Mosgiel mountains Muse Nature Nature's Nursling o'er pain peace pensive Poet praise proud pure rapture Rhine Rill Rome round sacred Saragossa Sarah Hutchinson scorn shame shine sigh sight silent Skiddaw sleep smile smooth soft Sonnets sorrow soul sovereign hill spirit Staffa stars Stream sweet sword tears thee thine things thou thought Tower of Refuge towers truth ULPHA vale voice WANSFELL whence wild William Wordsworth wind wing words Ye men youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 79 - Roused though it be full often to a mood Which spurns the check of salutary bands, — • That this most famous stream in bogs and sands Should perish; and to evil and to good Be lost for ever.
Pagina 77 - Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.
Pagina 64 - 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...
Pagina 146 - A TROUBLE, not of clouds, or weeping rain, Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height: Spirits of power, assembled there, complain For kindred power departing from their sight : While Tweed best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, Saddens his voice again, and yet again. Lift up your hearts, ye mourners! for the might Of the whole world's good wishes with him goes ; Blessings and prayers in nobler retinue Than sceptered king or laurelled conqueror knows,...
Pagina 84 - Tis well ! from this day forward we shall know That in ourselves our safety must be sought ; That by our own right hands it must be wrought, That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
Pagina 19 - High is our calling, Friend! Creative Art (Whether the instrument of words she use Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues) Demands the service of a mind and heart, Though sensitive, yet, in their weakest part, Heroically fashioned — to infuse Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse, • While the whole world seems adverse to desert.
Pagina 75 - TOUSSAINT, the most unhappy Man of Men ! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den ;-- O miserable Chieftain ! where and when Wilt thou find patience...
Pagina 12 - Heaven-born, the Soul a heaven-ward course must hold ; Beyond the visible world She soars to seek, (For what delights the sense is false and weak) Ideal Form, the universal mould. The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest In that which perishes : nor will he lend His heart to aught which doth on time depend. 'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true love, Which kills the soul: Love betters what is best, Even here below, but more in heaven above.
Pagina 12 - Thou shew to us Thine own true way No man can find it : Father! Thou must lead. Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind By which such virtue may in me be bred That in Thy holy footsteps I may tread ; The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind...
Pagina 146 - ON THE DEPARTURE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT FROM ABBOTSFORD, FOR NAPLES A TROUBLE, not of clouds, or weeping rain, Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height : Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain For kindred Power departing from their sight ; While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, Saddens his voice again, and yet again. Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners ! for the might Of the whole world's good wishes with him goes ; Blessings and prayers,...