William Wordsworth: A BiographyCash, 1856 - 508 страница |
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Страница 61
... hand held out to relieve . The friend who thus aided him was Raisley Calvert , son of R. Calvert , Esq . , the Steward of the Duke of Norfolk ; he was no poet himself , says the nephew of Wordsworth , but he was endowed with that ...
... hand held out to relieve . The friend who thus aided him was Raisley Calvert , son of R. Calvert , Esq . , the Steward of the Duke of Norfolk ; he was no poet himself , says the nephew of Wordsworth , but he was endowed with that ...
Страница 74
... hand , and the gauntleted will , and the remorseless nature capable of coping in that arena ; and beside , Force is the mother of Force ; the one can only incarnate the other , forth from that boiling sea of blood , who could be ...
... hand , and the gauntleted will , and the remorseless nature capable of coping in that arena ; and beside , Force is the mother of Force ; the one can only incarnate the other , forth from that boiling sea of blood , who could be ...
Страница 87
... hand and restored him to nature . He points to her as influencing considerably the final building up the edifice of his cha- racter ; thus adding in the graceful and unobtrusive manner in which she steps through the chambers of his ...
... hand and restored him to nature . He points to her as influencing considerably the final building up the edifice of his cha- racter ; thus adding in the graceful and unobtrusive manner in which she steps through the chambers of his ...
Страница 89
... hand , and said her husband was gone before with the other children . I gave her a piece of bread . Afterwards on my road to Ambleside , beside the bridge at Rydal , I saw her husband sitting by the road side , his two asses standing ...
... hand , and said her husband was gone before with the other children . I gave her a piece of bread . Afterwards on my road to Ambleside , beside the bridge at Rydal , I saw her husband sitting by the road side , his two asses standing ...
Страница 91
... his own land - he had moved to and fro apparently in aimless existence , and in his own country appeared uncertain where to find a him by the hand , to give tenderness to his resting place ; but Milton had no sweet sister to take.
... his own land - he had moved to and fro apparently in aimless existence , and in his own country appeared uncertain where to find a him by the hand , to give tenderness to his resting place ; but Milton had no sweet sister to take.
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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.