Lyrical Ballads: With a Few Other PoemsPayson & Clarke, 1926 - 210 psl. |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Lyrical Ballads– William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge R. L. Brett,A. R. Jones Ribota peržiūra - 2002 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Albatross Ancyent Marinere babe beauteous behold Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips body breath breeze bright bright eye child church-yard dead dear door doth dreadful fair father fear FOSTER-MOTHER gentle Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart heaven Hermit high crag hill of moss idiot boy Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist LEWTI limbs LINES WRITTEN Liswyn farm look maid Martha Ray mind mist moonlight mountain mov'd never night Nightingale o'er oh misery OLD HUNTSMAN owlets pain pass'd pleasure pond pony pony's poor old poor Susan porringer pray Quoth round sails Ship silent Simon Lee soul spirit stars Stephen Hill stood 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 Young Harry
Populiarios ištraukos
202 psl. - When these wild ecstasies shall be matured Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief. Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations'. Nor, perchance If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice...
201 psl. - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy : for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold...
16 psl. - O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware.
42 psl. - O sweeter than the marriage-feast, '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 ! Farewell, farewell!
42 psl. - He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. " He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small ; For the dear God who loveth us He made and loveth all.
7 psl. - At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist. A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: As if it dodged a water-sprite, It plunged and tacked and veered.
195 psl. - Of aspect more sublime: that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on...
198 psl. - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
41 psl. - What loud uproar bursts from that door ! The wedding-guests are there : But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are : And hark the little vesper bell...
202 psl. - Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence — wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together; and that I, so long A worshipper of Nature, hither came Unwearied in that service: rather say With warmer love — oh! with far deeper zeal Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget, That after many wanderings, many years Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs, And this green pastoral landscape, were to me More dear, both for themselves...