The poetical works of william wordsworth1892 |
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Página 96
... Busk ye , busk ye , my bonny , bonny Bride , Busk ye , busk ye , my winsome Marrow ! " ~ FROM Stirling castle we had seen The mazy Forth unravelled ; Had trod the banks of Clyde , and Tay , And with the Tweed had travelled And when we ...
... Busk ye , busk ye , my bonny , bonny Bride , Busk ye , busk ye , my winsome Marrow ! " ~ FROM Stirling castle we had seen The mazy Forth unravelled ; Had trod the banks of Clyde , and Tay , And with the Tweed had travelled And when we ...
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume 2 William Wordsworth Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
Apennine aught austere Band Bard beauty behold beneath bird blest bold bowers brave breast breath bright brow Busk CALAIS cheer clouds Date uncertain dear deep delight doth dread dream Duddon earth fair faith Fancy fear flood flowers FURNESS ABBEY gaze gleam glory grace Grasmere grave green ground grove happy hath heard heart Heaven height hill hope hour human lake land light live Loch Lomond lonely look meek memory Merlin mighty mind morning mortal mountain Muse Nature Nature's ne'er night o'er peace pomp praise pride published 1807 pure rill RIVER DUDDON Rob Roy rock RYDAL MOUNT Sanguinetto scorn shore sigh sight silent SIMPLON PASS Skiddaw sleep soft Sonnet sorrow soul sound spirit stars stream strife sweet thee thine thou thought towers Trajan vale VALLOMBROSA voice Whate'er wild wind wings Wordsworth Yarrow ΙΟ
Pasajes populares
Página 87 - Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Página 3 - NUNS fret not at their convent's narrow room ; And hermits are contented with their cells ; And students with their pensive citadels : Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom, Sit blithe and happy ; bees that soar for bloom, High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells, Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells : In truth, the prison unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is...
Página 42 - 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. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill...
Página 21 - This sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune ; It moves us not.
Página 134 - Harrington, Young Vane, and others who called Milton friend. These moralists could act and comprehend : They knew how genuine glory was put on ; Taught us how rightfully a nation shone In splendour : what strength was, that would not bend But in magnanimous meekness.
Página 135 - It is not to be thought of that the flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea ..:"- Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed, " with pomp of waters unwithstood...
Página 42 - Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!
Página 129 - ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC. ONCE did She hold the gorgeous east in fee ; And was the safeguard of the west : the worth Of Venice did not fall below her birth, Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty. She was a maiden City, bright and free ; No guile seduced, no force could violate ; And, when she took unto herself a Mate, She must espouse the everlasting Sea. And what if she had seen those glories fade, Those titles vanish, and that strength decay ; Yet shall some tribute of regret be...
Página 134 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Página 134 - Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.