Lyrical Ballads: With a Few Other Poems"A landmark in Romanticism, and one of the most celebrated of all collaborative literary works, Lyrical Ballads includes Wordsworth's 'Tintern Abbey' and the earliest version of Coleridge's 'Rime of the Ancyent Marinere'. Originally the poem 'Lewti' appeared on pages 63-7; but as this was known to be by Coleridge and the authors wished to preserve their anonymity, these leaves were cancelled before publication and replaced by 'The Nightingale'. The corresponding change was made in the table of contents"--Abebooks website. Pagination errors remained as a result of the substitution of 'The Nightingale." |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 31
Page 10
... night thro ' fog smoke - white Glimmer'd the white moon - shine . " God save thee , ancyent Marinere ! " From the fiends that plague thee thus— " Why look'st thou so ? " — with my cross bow I shot the Albatross . II . The Sun came up ...
... night thro ' fog smoke - white Glimmer'd the white moon - shine . " God save thee , ancyent Marinere ! " From the fiends that plague thee thus— " Why look'st thou so ? " — with my cross bow I shot the Albatross . II . The Sun came up ...
Page 14
... night ; The water , like a witch's oils , Burnt green and blue and white . And some in dreams assured were Of the Spirit that plagued us so : Nine fathom deep he had follow'd us From the Land of Mist and Snow . And every tongue thro ...
... night ; The water , like a witch's oils , Burnt green and blue and white . And some in dreams assured were Of the Spirit that plagued us so : Nine fathom deep he had follow'd us From the Land of Mist and Snow . And every tongue thro ...
Page 23
... nights I saw that curse , And yet I could not die . The moving Moon went up the sky And no where did abide : Softly she was going up And a star or two beside Her beams bemock'd the sultry main Like morning frosts yspread 23.
... nights I saw that curse , And yet I could not die . The moving Moon went up the sky And no where did abide : Softly she was going up And a star or two beside Her beams bemock'd the sultry main Like morning frosts yspread 23.
Page 30
... '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 sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune . Listen , O listen , thou Wedding - guest ! 30.
... '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 sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune . Listen , O listen , thou Wedding - guest ! 30.
Page 37
... night , calm night , the moon was high ; The dead men stood together . All stood together on the deck , For a charnel - dungeon fitter : All fix'd on me their stony eyes That in the moon did glitter . The pang , the curse , with which ...
... night , calm night , the moon was high ; The dead men stood together . All stood together on the deck , For a charnel - dungeon fitter : All fix'd on me their stony eyes That in the moon did glitter . The pang , the curse , with which ...
Other editions - View all
Lyrical Ballads: William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge R. L. Brett,A. R. Jones Limited preview - 2002 |
Common terms and phrases
Albatross ancyent Marinere babe behold Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips body breath breeze bright bright eye child church-yard cold dead dear door doth dreadful fair father fear FOSTER-MOTHER gentle Goody Blake green grief happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart heaven Hermit high crag hill of moss idiot boy idle Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist limbs Liswyn farm live look Martha Ray mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd never night o'er oh misery owlets pain pass'd pleasure pond pony pony's poor old poor Susan porringer pray Quoth round sails Ship side silent Simon Lee snow soul spirit stars Stephen Hill stood sweet tale tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought thro tree turn'd Twas voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind woman wood Young Harry
Popular passages
Page 111 - 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.
Page 210 - 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 7 - The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy.
Page 205 - 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 202 - That on a wild, secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion, and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Page 35 - 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 112 - Then did the little maid reply, " Seven boys and girls are we ; Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard tree." "You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, " Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Page 203 - 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 210 - 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'.
Page 206 - 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.