Poems, in Two Volumes,Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1807 - 170 pages |
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Results 1-5 of 47
Page 7
... hath smiles to earth unknown ; Smiles , that with motion of their own Do spread , and sink , and rise ; That come and go with endless play , And ever , as they pass away , Are hidden in her eyes . She loves her fire , her Cottage - home ...
... hath smiles to earth unknown ; Smiles , that with motion of their own Do spread , and sink , and rise ; That come and go with endless play , And ever , as they pass away , Are hidden in her eyes . She loves her fire , her Cottage - home ...
Page 20
... ; and neat and trim He kept it : many voyages This Singing - bird hath gone with him ; When last he sail'd he left the Bird behind ; As it might be , perhaps , from bodings of his mind , He to a Fellow - lodger's care Had left it 20.
... ; and neat and trim He kept it : many voyages This Singing - bird hath gone with him ; When last he sail'd he left the Bird behind ; As it might be , perhaps , from bodings of his mind , He to a Fellow - lodger's care Had left it 20.
Page 35
... hath much to love : ' Tis , finally , the Man , who , lifted high , Conspicuous object in a Nation's Or left unthought - of in obscurity , eye , Who , with a toward or untoward lot , Prosperous or adverse , to his wish or not , Plays ...
... hath much to love : ' Tis , finally , the Man , who , lifted high , Conspicuous object in a Nation's Or left unthought - of in obscurity , eye , Who , with a toward or untoward lot , Prosperous or adverse , to his wish or not , Plays ...
Page 46
... hath been said , they were not base ; And never blush was on my face . Ah ! little doth the Young One dream , When full of play and childish cares , What power hath even his wildest scream , Heard by his Mother unawares ! He knows it ...
... hath been said , they were not base ; And never blush was on my face . Ah ! little doth the Young One dream , When full of play and childish cares , What power hath even his wildest scream , Heard by his Mother unawares ! He knows it ...
Page 59
... Hath blown his bugle born . Sing , mournfully , oh ! mournfully , The Solitude of Binnorie . Beside a Grotto of their own , With boughs above them closing , The Seven are laid , and in the shade They lie like Fawns reposing . But now ...
... Hath blown his bugle born . Sing , mournfully , oh ! mournfully , The Solitude of Binnorie . Beside a Grotto of their own , With boughs above them closing , The Seven are laid , and in the shade They lie like Fawns reposing . But now ...
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Common terms and phrases
beautiful behold Bird blessed blind bliss bowers brave breath bright BROUGHAM CASTLE Busk Butterfly CALAIS Castle chearful Child clouds Clovenford Creature Cuckoo dance dead dear delight dost doth dream earth Egremont Castle espy eyes fair fancy fear flowers Friend Furness Fells gentle gladness glee glittering glory grave grief ground happy hast hath hear heard heart Heaven Highland hill hour human weight Jedborough Kent's green Lake land live lonely look look'd Lord Lord Clifford melancholy mighty mind Mother mountain mournfully never night o'er pleasure POEMS praise rest RIVER DUDDON Rob Roy rocks Scotland seem'd seen Shepherd shew sight silent sing sleep solitary Reaper song SONNET sorrow soul sound Spirit Star stepping westward strife sweet thine things thou art thought Traveller trees Vale vex'd voice waters WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind words Yarrow Ye Men
Popular passages
Page 144 - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose ; The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare ; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair ; The Sunshine is a glorious birth ; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Page 138 - Ah ! then if mine had been the painter's hand To express what then I saw, and add the gleam, The light that never was on sea or land, The consecration, and the poet's dream...
Page 145 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May Doth every Beast keep holiday...
Page 14 - Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Page 138 - IT is not to be thought of that the Flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed, " with pomp of waters, unwithstood." Roused though it be full often to a mood Which spurns the check of salutary bands, That this most famous Stream in bogs and sands Should perish ; and to evil and to good Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung Armoury of the invincible Knights of old : We must be free or die, who speak the...
Page 119 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Page 71 - There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, 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 ! if through confidence misplaced They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power!
Page 130 - TOUSSAINT, the most unhappy Man of Men ! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den ; — O miserable Chieftain ! where and when Wilt thou find patience ? Yet die not ; do thou Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow : Though fallen Thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee ; air, earth, and skies ; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will...
Page 151 - The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest — Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering...
Page 55 - The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.