Lyrical Ballads: With a Few Other PoemsJ. & A. Arch, 1798 - 210 pages "A landmark in Romanticism, and one of the most celebrated of all collaborative literary works, Lyrical Ballads includes Wordsworth's 'Tintern Abbey' and the earliest version of Coleridge's 'Rime of the Ancyent Marinere'. Originally the poem 'Lewti' appeared on pages 63-7; but as this was known to be by Coleridge and the authors wished to preserve their anonymity, these leaves were cancelled before publication and replaced by 'The Nightingale'. The corresponding change was made in the table of contents"--Abebooks website. Pagination errors remained as a result of the substitution of 'The Nightingale." |
From inside the book
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Page 149
... Betty Foy ? Why are you in this mighty fret ? And why on horseback have you set Him whom you love , your idiot boy ? Beneath the moon that shines so bright , Till she 149 XVI.
... Betty Foy ? Why are you in this mighty fret ? And why on horseback have you set Him whom you love , your idiot boy ? Beneath the moon that shines so bright , Till she 149 XVI.
Page 150
... Betty Foy With girt and stirrup fiddle - faddle ; But wherefore set upon a saddle Him whom she loves , her idiot boy ? There's scarce a soul that's out of bed ; Good Betty ! put him down again ; His lips with joy they burr at you , But , ...
... Betty Foy With girt and stirrup fiddle - faddle ; But wherefore set upon a saddle Him whom she loves , her idiot boy ? There's scarce a soul that's out of bed ; Good Betty ! put him down again ; His lips with joy they burr at you , But , ...
Page 152
... Betty Foy Has up upon the saddle set , The like was never heard of yet , Him whom she loves , her idiot boy .. And he must post without delay Across the bridge that's in the dale , And by the church , and o'er the down , To bring a ...
... Betty Foy Has up upon the saddle set , The like was never heard of yet , Him whom she loves , her idiot boy .. And he must post without delay Across the bridge that's in the dale , And by the church , and o'er the down , To bring a ...
Page 166
... Betty Foy , " And I have lost my poor dear boy , " You know him — him you often see ; " He's not so wise as some folks be , 166.
... Betty Foy , " And I have lost my poor dear boy , " You know him — him you often see ; " He's not so wise as some folks be , 166.
Page 173
... Betty Foy ? She hardly can sustain her fears ; The roaring water - fall she hears , And cannot find her idiot boy , Your pony's worth his weight in gold , Then calm 173.
... Betty Foy ? She hardly can sustain her fears ; The roaring water - fall she hears , And cannot find her idiot boy , Your pony's worth his weight in gold , Then calm 173.
Other editions - View all
Lyrical Ballads: William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge R. L. Brett,A. R. Jones Limited preview - 2002 |
Common terms and phrases
Albatross ancyent Marinere babe behold Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips body breath breeze bright bright eye child church-yard cold dead dear door doth dreadful fair father fear FOSTER-MOTHER gentle Goody Blake green grief happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart heaven Hermit high crag hill of moss idiot boy idle Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist limbs Liswyn farm live look Martha Ray mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd never night o'er oh misery owlets pain pass'd pleasure pond pony pony's poor old poor Susan porringer pray Quoth round sails Ship side silent Simon Lee snow soul spirit stars Stephen Hill stood sweet tale tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought thro tree turn'd Twas voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind woman wood Young Harry
Popular passages
Page 111 - 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 210 - 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, wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I, so long A worshipper of Nature, hither came, Unwearied in that service : rather say With warmer love, oh ! with far deeper zeal Of holier love.
Page 7 - The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy.
Page 205 - The picture of the mind revives again ; While here I stand, not only with the sense Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts That in this moment there is life and food For future years.
Page 202 - That on a wild, secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion, and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Page 35 - Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
Page 112 - Then did the little maid reply, " Seven boys and girls are we ; Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard tree." "You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, " Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Page 203 - 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...
Page 210 - When these wild ecstasies shall be matured 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; oh! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief. Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations'.
Page 206 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.