Puslapio vaizdai
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By the Side of the Grave some years after....... 461
Lines composed at Grasmere, during a Walk one
Evening, after a stormy Day, the Author
having just read in a Newspaper that the
Dissolution of Mr. Fox was hourly expected,
1806 ...

Elegiac Verses, in Memory of my Brother, John
Wordsworth, Commander of the E. I. Com-
pany's Ship the Earl of Abergavenny, in
which he perished by Calamitous Shipwreck,
Feb. 6, 1805

Lines written in a Copy of "The Excursion,"
upon hearing of the Death of the late Vicar
of Kendal.....

Elegiac Stanzas, suggested by a Picture of Peele
Castle in a Storm, painted by Sir George
Beaumont, 1805....

To the Daisy, 1805...

461

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THE PRELUDE; OR, GROWTH OF A POET'S MIND.
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL POEM.

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The Old Cumberland Beggar, 1798........................ 453
The Farmer of Tilsbury Vale, 1803

Book I:

455

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The Small Celandine, 1804 ...

Introduction. Childhood and School-Time... 476

456

The Two Thieves; or, the Last Stage of Avarice,

Book II:

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xxii

BOOK IX:

Book V:

Residence in France

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POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH.

EXTRACT

FROM THE CONCLUSION OF A POEM, COMPOSED
UPON LEAVING SCHOOL.

DEAR native Regions, I foretell,
From what I feel at this farewell,
That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend,
And whensoe'er my course shall end,
If in that hour a single tie
Survive of local sympathy,

My soul will cast the backward view,
The longing look alone on you.

Thus, from the precincts of the West,
The Sun, when sinking down to rest,
Though his departing radiance fail
To illuminate the hollow Vale,

A lingering lustre fondly throws

On the dear mountain-tops where first he rose.

AN EVENING WALK,

ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.

General Sketch of the Lakes — Author's Regret of his Youth passed among them-Short description of Noon-Cascade Scene· Noon-tide Retreat — Precipice and sloping Lights - Face of Nature as the Sun declines Mountain Farm, and the Cock-Slate Quarry - Sunset - Superstition of the Country, connected with that Moment - Swans -Female Beggar - Twilight Sounds — Western Lights - Spirits - Night- Moonlight — Hope Night Sounds-Conclusion.

Far from my dearest Friend, 't is mine to rove
Through bare gray dell, high wood, and pastoral cove;
Where Derwent stops his course to hear the roar
That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore;
Where silver rocks the savage prospect cheer

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In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain,
And hope itself was all I knew of pain.
For then, even then, the little heart would beat
At times, while young Content forsook her seat,
And wild Impatience, panting upward, showed
Where, tipped with gold, the mountain-summits glowed.
Alas! the idle tale of man is found
Depicted in the dial's moral round;
With Hope Reflection blends her social rays
To gild the total tablet of his days;

Yet still, the sport of some malignant Power,
He knows but from its shade the present hour.

But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain?
To show what pleasures yet to me remain,
Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear,
The history of a poet's evening hear?

When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,
Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill,
And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen,
Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between;
When, at the barren wall's unsheltered end,
Where long rails far into the lake extend,
Crowded the shortened herds, and beat the tides
With their quick tails, and lashed their speckled sides.
When school-boys stretched their length upon the

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