The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, 2 tomasLongman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green & Longman, 1832 |
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3 psl.
... 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 . This Boy was taken from ...
... 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 . This Boy was taken from ...
5 psl.
... III . TO THE CUCKOO . O BLITHE New - comer ! I have heard , I hear thee and rejoice . O Cuckoo ! shall I call thee Bird , Or but a wandering Voice ? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout B 3 TO THE CUCKOO . 5 To the Cuckoo.
... III . TO THE CUCKOO . O BLITHE New - comer ! I have heard , I hear thee and rejoice . O Cuckoo ! shall I call thee Bird , Or but a wandering Voice ? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout B 3 TO THE CUCKOO . 5 To the Cuckoo.
6 psl.
... voice , a mystery ; The same whom in my School - boy days I listened to ; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush , and tree , and sky . To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green ; And thou wert still a ...
... voice , a mystery ; The same whom in my School - boy days I listened to ; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush , and tree , and sky . To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green ; And thou wert still a ...
14 psl.
... Stock - dove sing or say His homely tale , this very day ; His voice was buried among trees , Yet to be come at by the breeze : He did not cease ; but cooed and cooed 14 THE NIGHTINGALE . O Nightingale! thou surely 454-80.
... Stock - dove sing or say His homely tale , this very day ; His voice was buried among trees , Yet to be come at by the breeze : He did not cease ; but cooed and cooed 14 THE NIGHTINGALE . O Nightingale! thou surely 454-80.
21 psl.
... voice was like the voice of three . Old Goody Blake was old and poor ; Ill fed she was , and thinly clad ; And any man who passed her door Might see how poor a hut she had . All day she spun in her poor dwelling : And c 3 GOODY BLAKE ...
... voice was like the voice of three . Old Goody Blake was old and poor ; Ill fed she was , and thinly clad ; And any man who passed her door Might see how poor a hut she had . All day she spun in her poor dwelling : And c 3 GOODY BLAKE ...
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth With a Memoir : Seven ..., 2 tomas William Wordsworth Visos knygos peržiūra - 1878 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Adam Bruce beauty behold beneath BLACK COMB bold bower brave breath bright BROUGHAM CASTLE brow Bruges Busk CALAIS calm Castle cheer clouds Clovenford Cruachan Danube dark dear deep delight doth dread dwell earth fair faith Fancy fear feel flood flowers gaze gentle gleam grace GRASMERE grave green grove happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill honour hope hour Lake light living lonely look Lord Lord Clifford Martha Ray meek melancholy mighty mind moon mortal mountain murmur Nature ne'er never night o'er peace pensive Peter Bell plain pleasure poor river Swale Rob Roy rocks round Scotland shade sight silent SIMPLON PASS sleep soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spot stars stood stream strife sweet thee thine things thoughts Tower trees vale voice wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind woods Yarrow Youth
Populiarios ištraukos
13 psl. - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
257 psl. - Two Voices are there ; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains ; each a mighty Voice : In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty...
165 psl. - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
101 psl. - 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 : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
212 psl. - Cuckoo-bird Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings? Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
100 psl. - That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
211 psl. - Solitary Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
104 psl. - The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon Shine on thee in thy solitary walk; And let the misty mountain winds be free To blow against thee...
166 psl. - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
259 psl. - IT is not to be thought of that the Flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed, ' with pomp of waters, unwithstood,' Roused though it be full often to a mood Which spurns the check of salutary bands, That this most famous Stream in bogs and sands Should perish ; and to evil and to good Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung Armoury of the invincible Knights of old : We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakspeare spake ; the...