The Poetical Works of William WordsworthGeorge Routledge and Sons, Broadway, Ludgate Hill, 1878 - 496 páginas |
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Página iv
... Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland Written in London . September , 1802 • 71 72 Milton ! thou shouldst be living at this hour Great men have been among us ; hands that penned It is not to be thought of , that the ...
... Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland Written in London . September , 1802 • 71 72 Milton ! thou shouldst be living at this hour Great men have been among us ; hands that penned It is not to be thought of , that the ...
Página vi
... thought Scene on the Lake of Brientz Engelberg , the Hill of Angels . Our Lady of the Snow . · 134 • 135 • 136 137 137 135 146 140 141 142 142 144 144 145 146 147 148 149 · 149 150 Effusion , in Presence of the Painted Tower of Tell vi ...
... thought Scene on the Lake of Brientz Engelberg , the Hill of Angels . Our Lady of the Snow . · 134 • 135 • 136 137 137 135 146 140 141 142 142 144 144 145 146 147 148 149 · 149 150 Effusion , in Presence of the Painted Tower of Tell vi ...
Página ix
... thought 270 YARROW REVISITED , AND OTHER POEMS Composed ( two excepted ) during a Tour in Scotland , and on the Eng- lish Border , in the Autumn of 1831 . The gallant Youth , who may have gained 271 On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott ...
... thought 270 YARROW REVISITED , AND OTHER POEMS Composed ( two excepted ) during a Tour in Scotland , and on the Eng- lish Border , in the Autumn of 1831 . The gallant Youth , who may have gained 271 On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott ...
Página 2
... thought of what I now behold : As vapors breathed from dungeons cold Strike pleasure dead, So sadness comes from out the mould Where 15urns is laid. And have I then thy bones so near, And thou POEMS OF THE IMAGINATION'. At the Grave of ...
... thought of what I now behold : As vapors breathed from dungeons cold Strike pleasure dead, So sadness comes from out the mould Where 15urns is laid. And have I then thy bones so near, And thou POEMS OF THE IMAGINATION'. At the Grave of ...
Página 2
... thought of what I now behold : As vapors breathed from dungeons cold Strike pleasure dead , So sadness comes from out the mould Where Burns is laid . And have I then thy bones so near , And 2 POEMS OF THE IMAGINATION . At the Grave of ...
... thought of what I now behold : As vapors breathed from dungeons cold Strike pleasure dead , So sadness comes from out the mould Where Burns is laid . And have I then thy bones so near , And 2 POEMS OF THE IMAGINATION . At the Grave of ...
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Términos y frases comunes
aught beauty behold beneath birds blest bold Bothwell Castle bowers breast breath bright brow Bruges cheer Church clouds Cuckoo dear delight divine doth dread earth eyes fair faith Fancy fear feel flowers gentle glory grace Grasmere grave green hand happy hath hear heard heart Heaven hill holy honor hope hour human land light live look Lord Loweswater meek memory metre mind morning mountains nature Nature's night o'er Ossian pain passed passion peace pleasure Poems Poet Poetry praise prayer pride pure rill river Derwent RIVER DUDDON RIVER EDEN Robert Walker rock round RYDAL MOUNT Rylstone Savona Seathwaite shade sigh sight silent SIMPLON PASS sleep smooth soft song Sonnet sorrow soul spirit spread stood stream sweet tears thee thou thought towers tree truth Ulpha vale Vallombrosa verse voice wind words Yarrow youth
Pasajes populares
Página 228 - Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep : so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.
Página 174 - As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong: The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay...
Página 19 - Reaper. Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Página 174 - 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.
Página 262 - Duty, if that name thou love, Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove ; Thou, who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe, From vain temptations dost set free, And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity ! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them ; who, in love and truth, Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth : Glad hearts, without reproach or blot, Who do thy work, and know it not...
Página 179 - 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 endeavor Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy...
Página 264 - Who, doomed to go in company with Pain, And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train ! Turns his necessity to glorious gain ; In face of these doth exercise a power Which is our human nature's highest dower ; Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good...
Página 176 - Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years' Darling of a pigmy size ! See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies, Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, With light upon him from his father's eyes...
Página 180 - And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forebode not any severing of our loves ! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they...
Página 180 - Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.