Poems by Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, and KeatsJames Weber Linn H. Holt and Company, 1911 - 215 páginas |
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Página li
... sweet sounds . But if such had been his only material , his work must have died . He goes far beyond physical sensations in such lines as these from the Grecian Urn : — " Thou , silent form , dost tease us out of thought As doth ...
... sweet sounds . But if such had been his only material , his work must have died . He goes far beyond physical sensations in such lines as these from the Grecian Urn : — " Thou , silent form , dost tease us out of thought As doth ...
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... sweet shire of Cardigan , Not far from pleasant Ivor Hall , An old man dwells , a little man , - ' Tis said he once was tall . Full five - and - thirty years he lived A 3 POEMS OF WORDSWORTH The Reverie of Poor Susan 33 Simon Lee the ...
... sweet shire of Cardigan , Not far from pleasant Ivor Hall , An old man dwells , a little man , - ' Tis said he once was tall . Full five - and - thirty years he lived A 3 POEMS OF WORDSWORTH The Reverie of Poor Susan 33 Simon Lee the ...
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... sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind . To her fair works did Nature link 5 The human soul that through me ran ; And much it grieved my heart to think What Man has made of Man . Through primrose tufts , in ...
... sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind . To her fair works did Nature link 5 The human soul that through me ran ; And much it grieved my heart to think What Man has made of Man . Through primrose tufts , in ...
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James Weber Linn. With rod and line I sued the sport Which that sweet season gave , 30 And to the churchyard come , stopp'd short Beside my daughter's grave . ' Nine summers had she scarcely seen , The pride of all the vale ; And then ...
James Weber Linn. With rod and line I sued the sport Which that sweet season gave , 30 And to the churchyard come , stopp'd short Beside my daughter's grave . ' Nine summers had she scarcely seen , The pride of all the vale ; And then ...
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... human door ! You yet may spy the fawn at play , The hare upon the green ; But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen . IO 66 To - night will be a stormy night- You Lucy Gray 15 A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal Lucy Gray.
... human door ! You yet may spy the fawn at play , The hare upon the green ; But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen . IO 66 To - night will be a stormy night- You Lucy Gray 15 A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal Lucy Gray.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Poems by Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats Samuel Taylor Coleridge,John Keats,William Wordsworth Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Poems by Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats Samuel Taylor Coleridge,John Keats,William Wordsworth Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
Términos y frases comunes
Agnes Ancient Mariner Beadsman beautiful beneath bird bliss bower breath breeze bright Byron child cloud Coleridge County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth Edited emotion England English eyes fair Fancy fear feel flowers gone green happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills JOHN KEATS Keats Keats's Kubla Khan ladies light lines live look look'd loud MERMAID TAVERN mind moon morn mountains NEIDPATH CASTLE never night o'er ODE TO DUTY OZYMANDIAS passion PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY poem poet poet's poetry Porphyro rain round sails SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE Scott seem'd Shelley Shelley's ship silent sing Sir John Moore sleep soft song sonnet soul sound spirit stanza star story sweet thee thine things thou art thought tree verse voice waves Wedding-Guest wild William Wordsworth wind Wordsworth wrote Yarrow youth ΙΟ
Pasajes populares
Página 116 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Página 27 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Página 159 - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Página 185 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon. Nor brought too long a day ; But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Página 54 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master-light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal silence : truths that wake To perish never...
Página 54 - But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings ; Blank misgivings of a creature Moving about in worlds not realized...
Página 162 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn...
Página 110 - O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)...
Página 121 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? What ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest - but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Página 68 - The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!