Lyrical Ballads: With a Few Other PoemsJ. & A. Arch, 1798 - 210 psl. "A landmark in Romanticism, and one of the most celebrated of all collaborative literary works, Lyrical Ballads includes Wordsworth's 'Tintern Abbey' and the earliest version of Coleridge's 'Rime of the Ancyent Marinere'. Originally the poem 'Lewti' appeared on pages 63-7; but as this was known to be by Coleridge and the authors wished to preserve their anonymity, these leaves were cancelled before publication and replaced by 'The Nightingale'. The corresponding change was made in the table of contents"--Abebooks website. Pagination errors remained as a result of the substitution of 'The Nightingale." |
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48 psl.
... forc'd me to begin my tale And then it left me free . Since then at an uncertain hour , Now oftimes and now fewer , That anguish comes and makes me tell My ghastly aventure . I pass , like night , from land to land 48.
... forc'd me to begin my tale And then it left me free . Since then at an uncertain hour , Now oftimes and now fewer , That anguish comes and makes me tell My ghastly aventure . I pass , like night , from land to land 48.
60 psl.
... And heath , and thistle , thinly sprinkled o'er , Fixing his downward eye , he many an hour A morbid pleasure nourished , tracing here An emblem of his own unfruitful life : And lifting up his head , he then would gaze 60.
... And heath , and thistle , thinly sprinkled o'er , Fixing his downward eye , he many an hour A morbid pleasure nourished , tracing here An emblem of his own unfruitful life : And lifting up his head , he then would gaze 60.
62 psl.
... leads to love , True dignity abides with him alone Who , in the silent hour of inward thought , Can still suspect , and still revere himself , In lowliness of heart . THE NIGHTINGALE ; a conversational poem , written in april 62.
... leads to love , True dignity abides with him alone Who , in the silent hour of inward thought , Can still suspect , and still revere himself , In lowliness of heart . THE NIGHTINGALE ; a conversational poem , written in april 62.
72 psl.
... hour , When from the last hill - top , my sire surveyed , Peering above the trees , the steeple tower , That on his marriage - day sweet music made ? Till then he hoped his bones might there be laid , Close by my mother in their native ...
... hour , When from the last hill - top , my sire surveyed , Peering above the trees , the steeple tower , That on his marriage - day sweet music made ? Till then he hoped his bones might there be laid , Close by my mother in their native ...
77 psl.
... hour of rest , That comes not to the human mourner's breast . Remote from man , and storms of mortal care , A heavenly silence did the waves invest ; I looked and looked along the silent air , Until it seemed to bring a joy to my ...
... hour of rest , That comes not to the human mourner's breast . Remote from man , and storms of mortal care , A heavenly silence did the waves invest ; I looked and looked along the silent air , Until it seemed to bring a joy to my ...
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 behold Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips body breath breeze bright bright eye child church-yard cold dead dear door doth dreadful fair father fear FOSTER-MOTHER gentle Goody Blake green grief happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart heaven Hermit high crag hill of moss idiot boy idle Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist limbs Liswyn farm live look Martha Ray mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd never night o'er oh misery owlets pain pass'd pleasure pond pony pony's poor old poor Susan porringer pray Quoth round sails Ship side silent Simon Lee snow soul spirit stars Stephen Hill stood sweet tale tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought thro tree turn'd Twas voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind woman wood Young Harry
Populiarios ištraukos
111 psl. - Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell.
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, 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.
7 psl. - The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy.
205 psl. - The picture of the mind revives again ; While here I stand, not only with the sense Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts That in this moment there is life and food For future years.
202 psl. - That on a wild, secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion, and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
35 psl. - Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
112 psl. - Then did the little maid reply, " Seven boys and girls are we ; Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard tree." "You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, " Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
203 psl. - 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 ; And passing even into my purer mind With tranquil restoration...
210 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'.
206 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.
Šią knygą minintys šaltiniai
Catalogue of the Library of Bernard Buchanan Macgeorge Bernard Buchanan MacGeorge Visos knygos peržiūra - 1892 |
Шевченко в образотворчому мистецтві George S. N. Luckyj,George Stephen Nestor Luckyj,Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies Trumpų ištraukų rodinys - 1980 |