Lyrical Ballads,: With Other Poems. In Two Volumes, Том 1T.N. Longman and O. Rees, Paternoster-Row, 1800 |
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Страница 131
... live . And that's the very pony too . Where is she , where is 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 131.
... live . And that's the very pony too . Where is she , where is 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 131.
Страница 138
... Live o'er again that happy hour , When midway on the Mount I lay Beside the Ruin'd Tower . The Moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the Lights of Eve ; And she was there , my Hope , my Joy , My own dear Genevieve ! She ...
... Live o'er again that happy hour , When midway on the Mount I lay Beside the Ruin'd Tower . The Moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the Lights of Eve ; And she was there , my Hope , my Joy , My own dear Genevieve ! She ...
Страница 148
... , little child , is flown ; But thou wilt live with me in love , And what if my poor cheek be brown ? ' Tis well for me , thou canst not see How pale and wan it else would be . Dread not their taunts , my little life ! I 148.
... , little child , is flown ; But thou wilt live with me in love , And what if my poor cheek be brown ? ' Tis well for me , thou canst not see How pale and wan it else would be . Dread not their taunts , my little life ! I 148.
Страница 149
... live in honesty . If his sweet boy he could forsake , With me he never would have stay'd : From him no harm my babe can take , But he , poor man ! is wretched made , And every day we two will pray For him that's gone and far away . I'll ...
... live in honesty . If his sweet boy he could forsake , With me he never would have stay'd : From him no harm my babe can take , But he , poor man ! is wretched made , And every day we two will pray For him that's gone and far away . I'll ...
Страница 150
... ; Then , pretty dear , be not afraid ; We'll find thy father in the wood . Now laugh and be gay , to the woods away ! And there , my babe ; we'll live for aye . THE ANCIENT MARINER , A POET'S REVERIE . - ARGUMENT 150.
... ; Then , pretty dear , be not afraid ; We'll find thy father in the wood . Now laugh and be gay , to the woods away ! And there , my babe ; we'll live for aye . THE ANCIENT MARINER , A POET'S REVERIE . - ARGUMENT 150.
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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
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Страница 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!
Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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...
Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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!
Страница 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!