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alien storms Altar ancient Banner Barden Fell Barden Tower beautiful behold beneath blessed blest bold Bolton bowers brave breast breath bright brook Canute chapel cheer Church Church-yard city of Durham Coniston COUNCIL OF CLERMONT Creature crown curacy dear divine doth Duddon earth Emily fair faith Father fear feeling flowers Francis Friend gentle grace grave green hand happy hath hear heard heart Heaven hill holy hope human JOAN OF KENT light Line live look Lord Loweswater Maid metre mind morning mortal nature night Norton o'er passion peace pleasure Poem Poet prayer rites RIVER DUDDON Robert Walker rock round Rylstone sacred Seathwaite shade shine side sight silent soft Sonnet sorrow soul spake spirit spread stand stood Stream sweet tears thee things thou thought tower trees truth Ulpha vale voice wandering White Doe Wicliffe wild wind
Page 313 - Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing Boy, But He beholds the light, and whence it flows He sees it in his joy; The Youth, who daily farther from the east Must travel, still is Nature's Priest, And by the vision splendid Is on his way attended; At length the Man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day.
Page 313 - On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm: — I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! — But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone: The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Page 212 - He is retired as noontide dew, Or fountain in a noon-day grove; And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
Page 276 - Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth; Glad hearts, without reproach or blot, Who do thy work and know it not: Oh!
Page 314 - See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, Some fragment from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learned art ; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral...
Page 210 - Who, not content that former worth stand fast, Looks forward, persevering to the last, From well to better, daily self-surpast...
Page 257 - A name which it took of yore : A thousand years hath it borne that name, And shall, a thousand more. And hither is young Romilly come, And what may now forbid That he, perhaps for the hundredth time, Shall bound across THE STRID ? He sprang in glee,— for what cared he That the River was strong and the rocks were steep ? — But the Greyhound in the leash hung back, And checked him in his leap. The Boy is in the arms of Wharf, And strangled by a merciless force ; For never more was young Romilly...
Page 203 - tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music ! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it. And hark ! how blithe the throstle sings ! He, too, is no mean preacher: Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your Teacher.
Page 334 - ... on, as it were, a form of flesh and blood, the Poet will lend his divine spirit to aid the transfiguration, and will welcome the Being thus produced, as a dear and genuine inmate of the household of man. — It is not, then, to be supposed that any one, who holds that sublime notion of Poetry...