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beauty beneath bird blue bower breath bright brow charm cheek clear close clouds CRABBE dark deep delight doth Dream dwell earth Eliza eyes face fair fear feel flow flowers fresh friends gentle give grace green hair half hand happy hath hear heart heaven hope hour JAMES JOHN keep kind Labor LADY leaves LEIGH light lips live look Lost Love's mind Miss morning nature never night noble o'er pass play Poets pure rich rose round seems shade shines sigh sings smile soft song soul sound speak spirit Spring stand star stream Summer sweet tell tender thee thine things thou thought trees true truth turn voice walk wander warm wave wild wind wings woods WORDSWORTH young youth
245 psl. - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!
103 psl. - Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences...
147 psl. - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
101 psl. - This should have been a noble creature : he Hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled ; as it is, It is an awful chaos light and darkness And mind and dust and passions and pure thoughts, Mix'd, and contending without end or order, All dormant or destructive...
144 psl. - There stands the messenger of truth : there stands The legate of the skies ! His theme divine, His office sacred, his credentials clear. By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace.
94 psl. - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
251 psl. - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
85 psl. - For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart . . . how shall I say? . . . too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, 'twas all one!
59 psl. - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face; That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.