The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth |
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Page 18
... peaceful flood , But one of mighty size , and strange , That , rough or smooth , is full of change , And stirring in its bed . For to this lake , by night and day , The great sea - water finds its way Through long , long windings of the ...
... peaceful flood , But one of mighty size , and strange , That , rough or smooth , is full of change , And stirring in its bed . For to this lake , by night and day , The great sea - water finds its way Through long , long windings of the ...
Page 22
... peace on shore . And in the lonely Highland dell Still do they keep the turtle shell ; And long the story will repeat Of the Blind Boy's adventurous feat , And how he was preserved . Juvenile Pieces . EXTRACT FROM THE CONCLUSION OF A ...
... peace on shore . And in the lonely Highland dell Still do they keep the turtle shell ; And long the story will repeat Of the Blind Boy's adventurous feat , And how he was preserved . Juvenile Pieces . EXTRACT FROM THE CONCLUSION OF A ...
Page 23
... peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads , To willowy hedge - rows , and to emerald meads ; Leads to her bridge , rude church , and cottaged grounds , Her rocky sheepwalks , and her woodland bounds ; Where bosom'd deep , the shy Winander ...
... peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads , To willowy hedge - rows , and to emerald meads ; Leads to her bridge , rude church , and cottaged grounds , Her rocky sheepwalks , and her woodland bounds ; Where bosom'd deep , the shy Winander ...
Page 29
... peace unbroke By silver'd wreaths of quiet charcoal smoke , That o'er the ruins of the fallen wood , Steal down the hill , and spread along the flood . The song of mountain streams , unheard by day , Now hardly heard , beguiles my ...
... peace unbroke By silver'd wreaths of quiet charcoal smoke , That o'er the ruins of the fallen wood , Steal down the hill , and spread along the flood . The song of mountain streams , unheard by day , Now hardly heard , beguiles my ...
Page 30
... peace around these woods . * * * * The cloister startles at the gleam of arms , * And blasphemy the shuddering fane alarins ; Nod the cloud - piercing pines their troubled neads : Spires , rocks , and lawns , a browner night o'erspreads ...
... peace around these woods . * * * * The cloister startles at the gleam of arms , * And blasphemy the shuddering fane alarins ; Nod the cloud - piercing pines their troubled neads : Spires , rocks , and lawns , a browner night o'erspreads ...
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Common terms and phrases
appear'd art thou babe beauty behold beneath Betty Betty Foy Binnorie bird BLACK COMB bower breath bright Busk CALAIS calm cheerful child clouds cottage dark dear delight doth dwell earth face fair fear feel fields flowers gentle glad Grasmere grave green grove guardian rocks happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour human Idiot Boy Johnny Laodamia light live lonely look look'd Martha Ray mind moon morning mother mountain Nature Nature's never night o'er pain pass'd peace pleasure poor praise Protesilaus rill Rob Roy rocks round seem'd shade shepherd sight silent sing Skiddaw sleep smile solitude song sorrow soul sound spake spirit stars stone stood stream sweet thee thine things thou art thought trees truth turn'd Twas Twill vale vex'd voice Wanderer wild wind woods Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 268 - Thou little child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife ? Full soon thy soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life...
Page 160 - These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye: 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 8 - A SIMPLE Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: 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.
Page 56 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be ; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Page 266 - 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 119 - Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise Has carried far into his heart the voice Of mountain torrents ; or the visible scene Would enter unawares into his mind With all its solemn imagery, its rocks, Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received Into the bosom of the steady lake.
Page 160 - Of aspect more sublime : that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world. 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...
Page 120 - 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.
Page 131 - Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Page 160 - 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.