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Country Pleasures: The Chronicle of a Year Chiefly in a Garden (Classic Reprint)
No preview available - 2017
Country Pleasures; The Chronicle of a Year Chiefly in a Garden
No preview available - 2016
ancient autumn beautiful beech birds bloom blossom blue Boggart bough branches bright Brodick brown Christmas Church Stretton clear climb clouds Clough cold colour comes Corrie curious daffodils daisy dark deep Dunmail Raise edge fall feeling feet fire flower foxglove frost garden Glen Goatfell grass green grey grim rocks hawthorn Helvellyn hills holly John Clare Lamlash Lancashire lane lawn leaves lesser celandine light look meadow Michael Drayton miles mist moon morning moss Moston mountain nest night o'clock once pale pass Pen-y-Gwryd pleasant poem pond primrose purple rain rhododendrons rocks round scene season seemed seen side snow snowdrop soft spring stream summer sweet thing Thirlmere thou throstle trees usual vale village walk Watendlath weather white-thorn Whitsuntide wild willow willow-herb wind window winter wonder wood Wordsworth yellow
Page 202 - Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill...
Page 76 - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all.
Page 48 - OH, TO BE in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...
Page 54 - PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises ; Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory ; Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story : There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
Page 313 - The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. Four voices of four hamlets round, From far and near, on mead and moor, Swell out and fail, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound...
Page 254 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Page 99 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays: Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers...
Page 319 - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light : The year is dying in the night ; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true.