Memoirs of William Wordsworth, Poet-laureate, D. C. L.

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258 psl. - I care not, Fortune, what you me deny, You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns by living stream,' &c. {Castle of Indolence.) The
177 psl. - they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee : A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company : I gazed — and gazed — but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought ; •
412 psl. - To humbler functions, awful Power ! I call thee ; I myself commend Unto thy guidance from this hour ; Oh, let my weakness have an end ! Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice ; The confidence of Reason give ; And in the light of truth thy bondman
234 psl. - Behold her single in the field, Yon solitary Highland lass, Heaping and singing by herself. Stop here, or gently pass. Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain ; Oh ! listen, for the vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
117 psl. - points of poetry, the power of exciting the sympathy of the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth of nature, and the power of giving the interest of novelty by the modifying colours of imagination. The sudden charm which accidents of light and shade, which moonlight or sunset diffused over a
228 psl. - Like something fashioned in a dream ; Such forms as from their covert peep When earthly cares are laid asleep. Yet, dream and vision as thou art, I bless thee with a human heart : God shield thee to thy latest years ! I neither know thee nor thy peers ; And yet my eyes are filled with tears.
130 psl. - Thou soul, that art the eternity of thought ! And givest to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion, not in vain By day or starlight thus from my first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul ; Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects.
47 psl. - My heart was full; I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me ; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly, A dedicated Spirit. On 1 walked In thankful blessedness, which yet survives.
178 psl. - WHILE RESTING ON THE BRIDGE AT THE FOOT OF BROTHER'S WATER. " The Cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun,
235 psl. - the unworthy lord, Whom mere despite of heart could so far please, And love of havoc (for with such disease Fame taxes him), that he could send forth word To level with the dust a noble horde, A brotherhood of venerable trees, Leaving an ancient dome and towers like these Beggared and outraged

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