The Earlier Poems of William Wordsworth: Corrected as in the Latest Editions. With Preface, and Notes Showing the Text as it Stood in 1815E. Moxon, 1857 - 435 pages |
Contents
58 | |
66 | |
82 | |
89 | |
95 | |
102 | |
145 | |
148 | |
158 | |
164 | |
175 | |
181 | |
186 | |
192 | |
199 | |
204 | |
210 | |
286 | |
295 | |
303 | |
310 | |
319 | |
321 | |
333 | |
339 | |
345 | |
356 | |
362 | |
372 | |
387 | |
393 | |
407 | |
413 | |
421 | |
Other editions - View all
The Earlier Poems of William Wordsworth: Corrected as in the Latest Editions ... William Wordsworth No preview available - 2019 |
Common terms and phrases
Alfoxden Ambleside art thou babe beautiful behold beneath Binnorie bird BLACK COMB bower breath bright brother Calais calm cheerful child church-yard clouds cottage dead dear delight dost doth dwell earth Edition of 1815 Ennerdale fair fear feel flowers gentle grave green grief happy hath hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour Kilve Leonard live look Lyrical Ballads mighty mind morning mother mountains murmur nature never night o'er pain peace pleasure poem Poet poor Priest Quantock hills Rob Roy rock round S. T. Coleridge Sara Coleridge seemed shade Shepherd shore sight silent sing Skiddaw slaughtered Lord sleep song sonnet sorrow soul sound spirit stanza stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought trees vale voice waters ween wild wind woods Wordsworth Written at Grasmere Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 246 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition , sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn ; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Page 265 - Will no one tell me what she sings ? Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago : Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day ? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again ? Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang As if her song could have no ending ; I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending ; I listened, motionless and still ; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it...
Page 371 - Stern Lawgiver ! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace ; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face : Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, And fragrance in thy footing treads ; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong ; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Page 309 - Love had he found in huts where poor men lie ; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
Page 343 - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure : — But the least motion which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
Page 264 - 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.
Page 433 - 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...
Page 315 - 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.
Page 89 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love. A Violet by a mossy stone Half-hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Page 11 - A simple Child, 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. " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be 1" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.