Lyrical Ballads: Reprinted from the First Edition of 1798D. Nutt, 1891 - 227 psl. |
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10 psl.
... moon - shine . " God save thee , ancyent Marinere ! 66 " 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 upon the right , 10 LYRICAL BALLADS.
... moon - shine . " God save thee , ancyent Marinere ! 66 " 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 upon the right , 10 LYRICAL BALLADS.
13 psl.
... moon . Day after day , day after day , We stuck , ne breath ne motion , As idle as a painted Ship Upon a painted Ocean . Water , water , every where And all the boards did shrink ; Water , water , every where , Ne any drop to drink ...
... moon . Day after day , day after day , We stuck , ne breath ne motion , As idle as a painted Ship Upon a painted Ocean . Water , water , every where And all the boards did shrink ; Water , water , every where , Ne any drop to drink ...
19 psl.
... Moon , with one bright Star Almost atween the tips . 1 One after one by the horned Moon ( Listen , THE ANCYENT MARINERE 19.
... Moon , with one bright Star Almost atween the tips . 1 One after one by the horned Moon ( Listen , THE ANCYENT MARINERE 19.
20 psl.
... Moon ( Listen , O Stranger ! to me ) Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pang And curs'd me with his ee . Four times fifty living men , With never a sigh or groan , With heavy thump , a lifeless lump They dropp'd down one by one . Their ...
... Moon ( Listen , O Stranger ! to me ) Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pang And curs'd me with his ee . Four times fifty living men , With never a sigh or groan , With heavy thump , a lifeless lump They dropp'd down one by one . Their ...
23 psl.
... , 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 THE ANCYENT MARINERE 23.
... , 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 THE ANCYENT MARINERE 23.
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Lyrical Ballads Reprinted from the First Edition of 1798 William Wordsworth,Samuel Taylor Coleridge Visos knygos peržiūra - 1890 |
Lyrical Ballads Reprinted from the First Edition of 1798 William Wordsworth,Samuel Taylor Coleridge Visos knygos peržiūra - 1890 |
Lyrical Ballads Reprinted from the First Edition of 1798 William Wordsworth,Samuel Taylor Coleridge Peržiūra negalima - 2018 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Albatross Alfoxden Ancyent Marinere babe Basil Montagu Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips body breeze bright changes of text chatter child church-yard cold Coleridge dead dear door doth dreadful edition eyes fair fear Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill of moss idiot boy Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist limbs Liswyn farm looks Lyrical Ballads maid Martha Ray mind moon moonlight mov'd Nether Stowey never night Nightingale o'er oh misery owlets pain pleasure poem pond pony poor old poor Susan porringer pray Quoth round sails Salisbury Plain Ship side silent Simon Lee soul spirit stanza stars stood strange sweet tale tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought thro TINTERN ABBEY tree turn'd Twas voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind woman wood Wordsworth
Populiarios ištraukos
206 psl. - For I have learned To look on Nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
208 psl. - Nor perchance, If I were not thus taught, should I the more Suffer my genial spirits to decay : For thou art with me here upon the banks Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend, My dear, dear Friend ; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes.
66 psl. - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
210 psl. - 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...
202 psl. - These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye ; 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...
44 psl. - How loudly his sweet voice he rears ! He loves to talk with marineres That come from a far countree. He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve He hath a cushion plump: It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak-stump. The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, 'Why, this is strange, I trow! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now?
112 psl. - And often after sun-set, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there.
ix psl. - In the one the incidents and agents were to be, in part at least, supernatural ; and the excellence aimed at was to consist in the interesting of the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions as would naturally accompany such situations, supposing them real.
xii psl. - Poems was to choose incidents and situations from common life, and to relate or describe them, throughout, as far as was possible in a selection of language really used by men, and, at the same time, to throw over them a certain colouring of imagination, whereby ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual aspect...
110 psl. - That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death ? 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. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad : Her eyes were fair, and very fair ; Her beauty made me glad. 74 75 "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be ? " " How many? Seven in all," she said And wondering looked at me.