Lyrical Ballads,: With Other Poems. In Two Volumes, Volume 1T.N. Longman and O. Rees, Paternoster-Row, 1800 |
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Page xxxix
... fair specimen . " I put my hat upon my head , And walk'd into the Strand , And there I met another man Whose hat was in his hand . " Immediately under these lines I will place one of the most justly admired stanzas of the " Babes in the ...
... fair specimen . " I put my hat upon my head , And walk'd into the Strand , And there I met another man Whose hat was in his hand . " Immediately under these lines I will place one of the most justly admired stanzas of the " Babes in the ...
Page xl
... fair example of the superlatively contemptible . Whence arises this difference ? Not from the metre , not from the language , not from the order of the words ; but the matter expressed in Dr. Johnson's stanza is contemptible . The ...
... fair example of the superlatively contemptible . Whence arises this difference ? Not from the metre , not from the language , not from the order of the words ; but the matter expressed in Dr. Johnson's stanza is contemptible . The ...
Page 22
... Fair to the sun , the darling of the winds , But hung with fruit which no one , that passed by , Regarded , and , his spirit damped at once , With indignation did he turn away And with the food of pride sustained his soul In solitude ...
... Fair to the sun , the darling of the winds , But hung with fruit which no one , that passed by , Regarded , and , his spirit damped at once , With indignation did he turn away And with the food of pride sustained his soul In solitude ...
Page 40
... All colours that were ever seen , And mossy network too is there , As if by hand of lady fair The work had woven been , And cups , the darlings of the eye , So deep is their vermillion dye . v . Ah me ! what lovely tints are there 40.
... All colours that were ever seen , And mossy network too is there , As if by hand of lady fair The work had woven been , And cups , the darlings of the eye , So deep is their vermillion dye . v . Ah me ! what lovely tints are there 40.
Page 41
... fair . VI . Now would you see this aged thorn , This pond and beauteous hill of moss , You must take care and chuse your time The mountain when to cross . For aft there sits , between the heap . That's like an infant's grave in size And ...
... fair . VI . Now would you see this aged thorn , This pond and beauteous hill of moss , You must take care and chuse your time The mountain when to cross . For aft there sits , between the heap . That's like an infant's grave in size And ...
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Common terms and phrases
Albatross ANCIENT MARINER babe beauty Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips breeze bright chatter child composition dead dear door dreadful fair father fear feelings friends Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart Hermit high crag hill of moss hope idiot boy Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist limbs Liswyn farm look look'd Martha Ray metre mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd nature never night numbers o'er oh misery old Susan owlets pain passion pleasure Poems Poet poetic diction Poetry pond pony poor old poor Susan porringer pray prose Quoth Reader sails Ship silent SIMON LEE song soul spirit stanza stars Stephen Hill stood Susan Gale sweet tale tautology tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought thro tion Twas verse voice wedding-guest weep wherefore wild wind wood words Young Harry
Popular passages
Page 198 - O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay ! Farewell, farewell!
Page 172 - A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
Page 208 - My dear dear Friend ; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. Oh ! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear dear Sister! and this prayer I make Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lend From joy to joy...
Page 209 - Into a sober pleasure ; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies...
Page 204 - In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things. If this Be but a vain belief, yet, oh ! how oft, In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless day-light ; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye ! Thou wanderer thro...
Page 2 - Nor less I deem that there are powers Which of themselves our minds impress ; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness.
Page 55 - Her eyes were fair, and very fair : Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be ?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they ? I pray you tell.
Page 189 - The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon. The rock shone bright, the kirk no less That stands above the rock: The moonlight...
Page 4 - The sun above the mountain's head, A freshening lustre mellow, Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow. Books! '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!
Page 141 - And she forgave me, that I gazed Too fondly on her face! But when I told the cruel scorn That crazed that bold and lovely Knight, And that he cross'd the mountain-woods, Nor rested day nor night; That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade— There came and look'd him in the face An angel beautiful and bright; And that he knew it was a Fiend, This miserable Knight!