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beauty behold beneath Black Comb bold bower breath bright BROUGHAM CASTLE brow Bruges Busk CALAIS calm cheer Child clouds Danube dark dear deep delight doth dread earth Engelberg fair faith Fancy fear feel flood flowers gaze gentle gleam grace GRASMERE grave green grove happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour Laodamia light living lonely look Lord Clifford Martha Ray meek mighty mind moon morning mortal mountain murmur Nature ne'er never night o'er oh misery peace pensive Peter Bell plain pleasure poor Protesilaus river Swale Rob Roy rocks round Rydal Mount shade sight silent SIMPLON PASS sleep snow soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood stream sweet thee thine things thou thoughts Tower trees Twas Vale voice wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wings woods Yarrow Youth
Страница 13 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; 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.
Страница 165 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Страница 101 - Is lightened : — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on. — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep 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.
Страница 212 - Cuckoo-bird Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Страница 100 - That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Страница 211 - Solitary Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Страница 104 - The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon Shine on thee in thy solitary walk; And let the misty mountain winds be free To blow against thee...
Страница 166 - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Страница 259 - 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 tongue That Shakspeare spake ; the...