Lyrical Ballads,: With Other Poems. In Two Volumes, Volume 1T.N. Longman and O. Rees, Paternoster-Row, 1800 |
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Page 7
... limb , His look and bending figure , all bespeak A man who does not move with pain , but moves With thought - He is insensibly subdued To settled quiet : he is one by whom All effort seems forgotten , one to whom Long patience has such ...
... limb , His look and bending figure , all bespeak A man who does not move with pain , but moves With thought - He is insensibly subdued To settled quiet : he is one by whom All effort seems forgotten , one to whom Long patience has such ...
Page 12
... limbs were stronger , And Oh how grievously I rue , That , afterwards , a little longer , My friends , I did not follow you ! For strong and without pain I lay , My friends , when you were gone away . My child ! they gave thee to ...
... limbs were stronger , And Oh how grievously I rue , That , afterwards , a little longer , My friends , I did not follow you ! For strong and without pain I lay , My friends , when you were gone away . My child ! they gave thee to ...
Page 14
... limbs to know If they have any life or no . My poor forsaken child ! if I For once could have thee close to me , With happy heart I then should die , And my last thoughts would happy be . I feel my body die away , I shall not see ...
... limbs to know If they have any life or no . My poor forsaken child ! if I For once could have thee close to me , With happy heart I then should die , And my last thoughts would happy be . I feel my body die away , I shall not see ...
Page 30
... limb as he ? His cheeks were red as ruddy clover , His voice was like the voice of three . Auld Goody Blake was old and poor , Ill fed she was , and thinly clad ; And any man who pass'd her door , Might see how poor a hut she had . All ...
... limb as he ? His cheeks were red as ruddy clover , His voice was like the voice of three . Auld Goody Blake was old and poor , Ill fed she was , and thinly clad ; And any man who pass'd her door , Might see how poor a hut she had . All ...
Page 54
... 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 cluster'd round her head . She had a rustic , woodland air , And she was wildly clad ; Her ...
... 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 cluster'd round her head . She had a rustic , woodland air , And she was wildly clad ; Her ...
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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!