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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth: With a Memoir, Volumen7
Vista completa - 1870
appeared beauty better called character clouds composed course dear delight earth eyes face faith fancy fear feeling felt fields flowers follow forms Friend give given hand happy hath head heard heart heaven hills honor hope hour human Italy knowledge leaves less light lines living look mean mind mountains moved nature never night notice objects observed once Page passed passion peace persons plain pleased pleasure poem Poet present reason rest rock round scene seemed seen sense shape side sight sonnet soul sound speak spirit spread stand steps stood stream strong thee things thou thought told touched traveller trees truth turned vale verses voice walks whole wind wish written youth
Página 413 - I was often unable to think of external things as having external existence, and I communed with all that I saw as something not apart from, but inherent in, my own immaterial nature. Many times while going to school have I grasped at a wall or tree to recall myself from this abyss of idealism to the reality.
Página 265 - Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven! — Oh! times, In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways Of custom, law, and statute, took at once The attraction of a country in romance! When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights, When most intent on making of herself A prime Enchantress — to assist the work Which then was going forward in her name...
Página 348 - The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company!
Página 92 - Magnificent The morning rose, in memorable pomp, Glorious as e'er I had beheld — in front, The sea lay laughing at a distance; near, The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds, Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light; And in the meadows and the lower grounds Was all the sweetness of a common dawn — Dews, vapours, and the melody of birds, And labourers going forth to till the fields.
Página 23 - And everlasting motion, not in vain By day or star-light thus from my first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul; Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects, with enduring things — With life and nature, purifying thus The elements of feeling and of thought^ And sanctifying, by such discipline, Both pain and fear, until we recognize A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.
Página 49 - ... leaps and runs, and shouts and sings, Or beats the gladsome air ; o'er all that glides Beneath the wave, yea, in the wave itself, And mighty depth of waters. "Wonder not If high the transport, great the joy I felt, Communing in this sort through earth and heaven With every form of creature, as it looked Towards the Uncreated with a countenance Of adoration, with an eye of love. One song they sang, and it was audible, Most audible, then, when the fleshly ear, O'ercome by humblest prelude of that...
Página 20 - Became my prey ; and when the deed was done I heard among the solitary hills Low breathings coming after me, and sounds Of undistinguishable motion, steps Almost as silent as the turf they trod.
Página 25 - Ye Presences of Nature in the sky And on the earth ! Ye Visions of the hills ! And Souls of lonely places ! can I think A vulgar hope was yours when ye employed Such ministry, when ye, through many a year Haunting me thus among my boyish sports, On caves and trees, upon the woods and hills, 470 Impressed, upon all forms, the characters Of danger or desire ; and thus did make The surface of the universal earth, With triumph and delight, with hope and fear, Work like a sea...
Página 49 - I felt the sentiment of Being spread O'er all that moves and all that seemeth still; O'er all that, lost beyond the reach of thought And human knowledge, to the human eye Invisible, yet liveth to the heart; O'er all that leaps and runs, and shouts and sings, Or beats the gladsome air; o'er all that glides Beneath the wave, yea, in the wave itself, And mighty depth of waters.
Página 181 - Children, Babes in arms. Oh, blank confusion ! true epitome Of what the mighty City is herself, To thousands upon thousands of her sons,. Living amid the same perpetual whirl Of trivial objects, melted and reduced To one identity, by differences That have no law, no meaning, and no end — Oppression, under which even highest minds Must labour, whence the strongest are not free.