Lyrical Ballads: Reprinted from the First Edition of 1798 |
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Page 17
... ( Heaven's mother send us grace ) As if thro ' a dungeon grate he peer'd With broad and burning face . Alas ! ( thought I , and my heart beat loud ) How fast she neres and neres ! Are those her Sails that glance in the Sun Like restless ...
... ( Heaven's mother send us grace ) As if thro ' a dungeon grate he peer'd With broad and burning face . Alas ! ( thought I , and my heart beat loud ) How fast she neres and neres ! Are those her Sails that glance in the Sun Like restless ...
Page 22
... Heaven , and try'd to pray ; But or ever a prayer had gusht , A wicked whisper came and made My heart as dry as dust . I clos'd my lids and kept them close , Till the balls like pulses beat ; For the sky and the sea , and the sea and ...
... Heaven , and try'd to pray ; But or ever a prayer had gusht , A wicked whisper came and made My heart as dry as dust . I clos'd my lids and kept them close , Till the balls like pulses beat ; For the sky and the sea , and the sea and ...
Page 26
... heaven That slid into my soul . The silly buckets on the deck That had so long remain'd , I dreamt that they were fill'd with dew And when I awoke it rain'd . My lips were wet , my throat was cold , My garments all were dank ; Sure I ...
... heaven That slid into my soul . The silly buckets on the deck That had so long remain'd , I dreamt that they were fill'd with dew And when I awoke it rain'd . My lips were wet , my throat was cold , My garments all were dank ; Sure I ...
Page 30
... heavens be mute . It ceas'd yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon , A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June , That to the fleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune . Listen , O listen , thou ...
... heavens be mute . It ceas'd yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon , A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June , That to the fleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune . Listen , O listen , thou ...
Page 43
... Heaven ! it was a joy , The dead men could not blast . I saw a third - I heard his voice : It is the Hermit good ! He fingeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood . He'll shrieve my soul , he'll wash away The Albatross's blood ...
... Heaven ! it was a joy , The dead men could not blast . I saw a third - I heard his voice : It is the Hermit good ! He fingeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood . He'll shrieve my soul , he'll wash away The Albatross's blood ...
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Lyrical Ballads: Reprinted from the First Edition of 1798 William Wordsworth,Samuel Taylor Coleridge No preview available - 2018 |
Common terms and phrases
Alfoxden ALFRED NUTT ANCYENT MARINERE ANDREW LANG babe Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds breeze bright changes of text chatter child cold Coleridge dead dear doth dreadful Edited EDWARD DOWDEN English FABLES fair fear Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill of moss idiot boy Johnny Johnny's JOSEPH JACOBS Kilve land of mist limbs Lines written Liswyn farm looks Lyrical Ballads maid Martha Ray mind moon moonlight mov'd Nether Stowey never night NUTT o'er oh misery old Susan pain pleasure poem pond pony poor old porringer pray Quoth Roger of Hoveden round Salisbury Plain Ship silent soul spirit stanza stood Susan Gale sweet tale tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought thro Tintern Abbey tree turn'd Twas voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind woman wood Wordsworth
Popular passages
Page 208 - When these wild ecstasies shall be matured 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; oh! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief. Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations'. Nor, perchance If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice...
Page 33 - Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the moon is cast — "If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
Page 111 - Jane; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain ; And then she went away. So in the church-yard she was laid ; And when the grass was dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I.
Page 208 - And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance, If I should be, where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence, wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I, so long A worshipper of Nature, hither came, Unwearied in that service : rather say With warmer love, oh ! with far deeper zeal Of holier love.
Page 60 - Howe'er disguised in its own majesty, Is littleness; that he who feels contempt For any living thing, hath faculties Which he has never used; that thought with him Is in its infancy. The man whose eye Is ever on himself doth look on one, The least of Nature's works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful, ever.
Page 203 - 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.
Page 200 - That on a wild, secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion, and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Page viii - In the one the incidents and agents were to be, in part at least, supernatural ; and the excellence aimed at was to consist in the interesting of the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions as would naturally accompany such situations, supposing them real.
Page 204 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Page 39 - 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 steep'd in silentness, The steady weathercock.