The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volumen1W. Paterson, 1882 |
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Página 10
... hour invites my steps abroad . While , near the midway cliff , the silvered kite In many a whistling circle wheels her flight ; Slant watery lights , from parting clouds , apace Travel along the precipice's base ; Cheering its naked ...
... hour invites my steps abroad . While , near the midway cliff , the silvered kite In many a whistling circle wheels her flight ; Slant watery lights , from parting clouds , apace Travel along the precipice's base ; Cheering its naked ...
Página 41
... hour , Itself all trembling at the torrent's power.3 1 1836 . Freshening the waste of sand 2 1836 . 3 1845 . The Grison gypsey here her tent hath placed , Sole human tenant of the piny waste ; 1820 . Her tawny skin , dark eyes , and ...
... hour , Itself all trembling at the torrent's power.3 1 1836 . Freshening the waste of sand 2 1836 . 3 1845 . The Grison gypsey here her tent hath placed , Sole human tenant of the piny waste ; 1820 . Her tawny skin , dark eyes , and ...
Página 42
... hour , She seeks a shelter from the battering shower . --Fierce comes the river down ; the crashing wood Gives way , and half its pines torment the flood ; + Fearful , beneath , the water - spirits call , And the bridge vibrates ...
... hour , She seeks a shelter from the battering shower . --Fierce comes the river down ; the crashing wood Gives way , and half its pines torment the flood ; + Fearful , beneath , the water - spirits call , And the bridge vibrates ...
Página 49
... hour to hour , 2 All day the deepening floods a murmur pour : The sky is veiled , and every cheerful sight : Dark is the region as with coming night ; But what a sudden burst of overpowering light ! Triumphant on the bosom of the storm ...
... hour to hour , 2 All day the deepening floods a murmur pour : The sky is veiled , and every cheerful sight : Dark is the region as with coming night ; But what a sudden burst of overpowering light ! Triumphant on the bosom of the storm ...
Página 51
... Hours their death - like sway extend , Save when the avalanche breaks loose , to rend It's way with uproar , till the ruin , drowned In some dense wood or gulf of snow profound , Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound.2 ...
... Hours their death - like sway extend , Save when the avalanche breaks loose , to rend It's way with uproar , till the ruin , drowned In some dense wood or gulf of snow profound , Mocks the dull ear of Time with deaf abortive sound.2 ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Alfoxden Alps arms babe beneath breath bright child cliffs clouds Coleridge Comp composed cottage dark dead dear deep door earth edition Edward Moxon ELDRED Elea Father Fcap fear feel gale gleam gloom Grasmere green hand hath Hawkshead hear heard heart Heaven Herbert hill hope Idon Idonea Kilve Lacy lake light live lonely look Lyrical Ballads MARMADUKE Martha Ray mind moon morning mountain Nature never night o'er OSWALD pain passed plain pleasure poem poor published River Duddon road rocks round Salisbury Plain scene shade side sigh sight silent Simplon Pass sleep smile snow Sonnet soul sound spot stanza steeps storm stream Sugh sweet tears thee things thou thought tree Twas vale village voice wandering wild William Wordsworth wind Woman woods Wordsworth Zoönomia
Pasajes populares
Página 232 - LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING. I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran ; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
Página 267 - These beauteous forms Through a long absence have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye : But oft. in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; And passing even into my purer mind With tranquil restoration...
Página 271 - 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...
Página 233 - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure : — But the least motion which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there.
Página 266 - That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Página 202 - My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem ; And there upon the ground I sit — I sit and sing to them. And often after sun-set, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. The first that died was sister Jane ; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain ; And then she went away.
Página 269 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
Página 201 - That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad ; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; •*—Her beauty made me glad. 22 " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Página 232 - The tears into his eyes were brought. And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. — I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
Página 271 - Nor wilt thou then forget, That after many wanderings, many years Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs, And this green pastoral landscape, were to me More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!