Poems, chosen and ed. by M. Arnold |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 26
xxviii psl.
... lonely as a Cloud " 125 126 127 128 130 131 132 To a Young Lady 134 To Hartley Coleridge " O Nightingale , thou surely art " 135 136 ' Strange Fits of Passion have I known " Three Years she grew " . She dwelt among the untrodden Ways ...
... lonely as a Cloud " 125 126 127 128 130 131 132 To a Young Lady 134 To Hartley Coleridge " O Nightingale , thou surely art " 135 136 ' Strange Fits of Passion have I known " Three Years she grew " . She dwelt among the untrodden Ways ...
31 psl.
... loneliness she cheers : This flute , made of a hemlock stalk , At evening in his homeward walk The Quantock woodman hears . I , too , have passed her on the hills Setting her little water - mills By spouts and fountains wild- Such small ...
... loneliness she cheers : This flute , made of a hemlock stalk , At evening in his homeward walk The Quantock woodman hears . I , too , have passed her on the hills Setting her little water - mills By spouts and fountains wild- Such small ...
36 psl.
... lonely cheer ; The crags repeat the raven's croak , In symphony austere ; Thither the rainbow comes - the cloud- And mists that spread the flying shroud ; And sunbeams ; and the sounding blast , That , if it could , would hurry past ...
... lonely cheer ; The crags repeat the raven's croak , In symphony austere ; Thither the rainbow comes - the cloud- And mists that spread the flying shroud ; And sunbeams ; and the sounding blast , That , if it could , would hurry past ...
55 psl.
... lonely Tower ! To vacancy and silence left ; Of all her guardian sons bereft― Knight , Squire , or Yeoman , Page or Groom : We have them at the feast of Brougham . How glad Pendragon - though the sleep Of years be on her ! -She shall ...
... lonely Tower ! To vacancy and silence left ; Of all her guardian sons bereft― Knight , Squire , or Yeoman , Page or Groom : We have them at the feast of Brougham . How glad Pendragon - though the sleep Of years be on her ! -She shall ...
59 psl.
... lonely hills . In him the savage virtue of the Race , Revenge , and all ferocious thoughts were dead : Nor did he change ; but kept in lofty place The wisdom which adversity had bred . Glad were the Vales , and every cottage hearth ...
... lonely hills . In him the savage virtue of the Race , Revenge , and all ferocious thoughts were dead : Nor did he change ; but kept in lofty place The wisdom which adversity had bred . Glad were the Vales , and every cottage hearth ...
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Ambleside art thou beauty behold beneath birds blessed bower breath bright brook Busk calm cheer clouds Cottage dark dear delight dost doth dream earth F. T. PALGRAVE fair fancy fear feel flowers FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE Friend gentle Glaramara glory golden perch Grasmere grave green grove happy hast hath hear heard heart Heaven hills hope hour human Kilve live lofty lonely look mighty mind morning mortal mountain mourn murmur Nature Nature's never o'er pass passion peace pleasure POEMS poet poetry praise quiet RIVER DUDDON rock round season shade sigh sight silent SIMPLON PASS sing SIR NOEL PATON Skiddaw sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit St Mary's Abbey stars streams summer sweet tears tender thee thine things thou art thought Trajan trees truth Vale voice wander wild wind woods Wordsworth Yarrow youth
Populiarios ištraukos
192 psl. - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all.
214 psl. - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration: the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder — everlastingly.
196 psl. - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence ; truths that wake, To perish never ; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy...
3 psl. - Not blither is the mountain roe: With many a wanton stroke Her feet disperse the powdery snow, That rises up like smoke. The storm came on before its time: She wandered up and down; And many a hill did Lucy climb: But never reached the town. The wretched parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At day-break on a hill they stood That overlooked the moor; And thence they saw the bridge of wood, A furlong from their door. They...
198 psl. - Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
xxxi psl. - I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head.
xv psl. - One adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists — one only; an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good.
190 psl. - Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice ; The confidence of reason give ; And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live ! 1805.
179 psl. - But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for human kind, Is happy as a lover ; and attired With sudden brightness, like a man inspired ; And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw...
135 psl. - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love. A Violet by a mossy stone Half-hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.