William Wordsworth: A BiographyCash, 1856 - 508 страница |
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Страница 33
... faith , we do not believe that he ever ignored the existence of the Godhead even in his mind ; but it is evi- dent that it did not reach him as a conviction imparting pleasure and delight , it was not to him the source of exuberant joy ...
... faith , we do not believe that he ever ignored the existence of the Godhead even in his mind ; but it is evi- dent that it did not reach him as a conviction imparting pleasure and delight , it was not to him the source of exuberant joy ...
Страница 37
... faith was of too lofty a kind to sink to the cold nonchalance of Pope ; but his mind hurried away into long and glittering abstractions , to speculations tinted with roseate colour- ings , and Nature was the centre of every beautiful ...
... faith was of too lofty a kind to sink to the cold nonchalance of Pope ; but his mind hurried away into long and glittering abstractions , to speculations tinted with roseate colour- ings , and Nature was the centre of every beautiful ...
Страница 39
... faith , so we could con- ceive his to be , that evil was a necessity of our being , scarcely to be deplored . But Milton on the contrary held the objective character of all evil ; with him it was the thing " the Lord hateth , " and he ...
... faith , so we could con- ceive his to be , that evil was a necessity of our being , scarcely to be deplored . But Milton on the contrary held the objective character of all evil ; with him it was the thing " the Lord hateth , " and he ...
Страница 41
... faith ; yet even then we find him speaking thus : " If this be error , and another faith Find easier access to the pious mind , Yet were I grossly destitute of all Those human sentiments that make this earth So dear , if I should fail ...
... faith ; yet even then we find him speaking thus : " If this be error , and another faith Find easier access to the pious mind , Yet were I grossly destitute of all Those human sentiments that make this earth So dear , if I should fail ...
Страница 42
... faith 4 luk falla med , in all sorrow my support , Flo blasting of my life , the gift is yours , Teutonda and amunding cataracts ! ' tis yours , Is mountaina 1 thin , O Nature ! thou hast fed My butty moculations , and in thee , İrup ...
... faith 4 luk falla med , in all sorrow my support , Flo blasting of my life , the gift is yours , Teutonda and amunding cataracts ! ' tis yours , Is mountaina 1 thin , O Nature ! thou hast fed My butty moculations , and in thee , İrup ...
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admiration ancient Artist beautiful beheld beloved beauty beneath Bishopsgate character charm cloth clouds Coleridge deep delight Drama emotions faith fancy feel felt flowers Foolscap 8vo forms FREDERIC BASTIAT FREDERICK G genius Goethe grace Grasmere Grecian Hartley Coleridge Hawkshead heard heart heaven Helvellyn hills homage human illustration impressions interest Jeffrey JOSEPH MURRAY lake Laodamia light live lofty look Lord Malham Cove mental mighty Milton mind moral mountain nature never objects painting passed passion perhaps Peter Bell poems Poet Poet's poetry portrait principles Quincey reader Review RICHARD COBDEN Robert Southey rock round Rydal Rylstone scenery seems seen sense solitude Sonnets sorrow soul sound Southey spirit sublime sympathy thee things thou thought tion true truth utterance verse village voice walk whole wild William Wordsworth Windermere winds woman wonderful words writings youth
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Страница 366 - O FRIEND ! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show ; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom ! We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest : The wealthiest man among us is the best : No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry ; and these we adore : Plain living and high thinking are no more : The homely beauty of the good old cause...
Страница 332 - The wind, the tempest roaring high, The tumult of a tropic sky, Might well be dangerous food For him, a Youth to whom was given So much of earth — so much of Heaven, And such impetuous blood.
Страница 363 - Milton ! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Страница 363 - Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
Страница 17 - When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once Have I, reclining back upon my heels, Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs Wheeled by me — even as if the earth had rolled With visible motion her diurnal round!
Страница 377 - I trust is their destiny, to console the afflicted, to add sunshine to daylight by making the happy happier, to teach the young and the gracious of every age, to see, to think and feel, and therefore to become more actively and securely virtuous; this is their office, which I trust they will faithfully perform long after we (that is, all that is mortal of us) are mouldered in our graves.
Страница 326 - ... During the first year that Mr. Wordsworth and I were neighbours, our conversations turned frequently on the two cardinal points of poetry, the power of exciting the sympathy of the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth of nature, and the power of giving the interest of novelty by the modifying colours of imagination.
Страница 47 - 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.
Страница 324 - Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Страница 166 - There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer; The crags repeat the raven's croak, In symphony austere; Thither the rainbow comes — the cloud — And mists that spread the flying shroud; And sunbeams; and the sounding blast, That, if it could, would hurry past; But that enormous barrier holds it fast.