Lyrical Ballads: With Pastoral and Other PoemsT.N. Longman and O.Rees, 1802 |
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Seite xxiii
... them are clothed may be said to be of the same substance , their affections are kindred and almost identi- cal , not necessarily differing even in degree ; * Poetry sheds no tears " such as Angels weep PREFACE . xxiii .
... them are clothed may be said to be of the same substance , their affections are kindred and almost identi- cal , not necessarily differing even in degree ; * Poetry sheds no tears " such as Angels weep PREFACE . xxiii .
Seite xxiv
With Pastoral and Other Poems William Wordsworth. * Poetry sheds no tears " such as Angels weep , ” but natural and human tears ; she can boast of no celestial Ichor that distinguishes her vital juices from those of prose ; the same ...
With Pastoral and Other Poems William Wordsworth. * Poetry sheds no tears " such as Angels weep , ” but natural and human tears ; she can boast of no celestial Ichor that distinguishes her vital juices from those of prose ; the same ...
Seite 18
... broad high - way , I met ; Along the broad high - way he came , His cheeks with tears were wet . Sturdy he seemed , though he was sad ; And in his arms a Lamb he had . He saw me , and he turned aside , As 18 The Last of the Flock.
... broad high - way , I met ; Along the broad high - way he came , His cheeks with tears were wet . Sturdy he seemed , though he was sad ; And in his arms a Lamb he had . He saw me , and he turned aside , As 18 The Last of the Flock.
Seite 19
... tears away . I followed him , and said , “ My Friend " What ails you ? wherefore weep you so ? " - " Shame on me , Sir ! this lusty Lamb , He makes my tears to flow . To - day I fetched him from the rock ; He is the last of all my flock ...
... tears away . I followed him , and said , “ My Friend " What ails you ? wherefore weep you so ? " - " Shame on me , Sir ! this lusty Lamb , He makes my tears to flow . To - day I fetched him from the rock ; He is the last of all my flock ...
Seite 26
... tears . In this deep vale He died , this seat his only monument . If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms Of young imagination have kept pure , Stranger ! henceforth be warned ; and know , that pride , Howe'er disguised in its own ...
... tears . In this deep vale He died , this seat his only monument . If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms Of young imagination have kept pure , Stranger ! henceforth be warned ; and know , that pride , Howe'er disguised in its own ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Albatross ancient Mariner Babe Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips breeze chatter cold composition dead dear door endeavoured excitement fair fear feelings Friend Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath hear heard heart high crag Hill of moss hope Idiot Boy Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist language limbs Liswyn farm live look'd looks LYRICAL BALLADS Martha Ray metre metrical mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd nature never night numbers o'er objects oh misery old Susan pain pass'd passion pleasure Poems Poet Poet's Poetry Pond Pony poor old poor Susan porringer pray produced prose Quoth Reader Ship silent Simon Lee song soul spirit Stephen Hill stood Susan Gale sweet tale tautology tears tell thee There's things Thorn thou thought thro tion truth Twas verse voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind wood words Young Harry
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 195 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colors 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.
Seite 196 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
Seite vii - Humble and rustic life was generally chosen, because, in that condition, the essential passions of the heart find a better soil in which they can attain their maturity, are less under restraint, and speak a plainer and more emphatic language...
Seite 198 - My dear dear Friend ; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. Oh ! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear dear Sister! and this prayer I make Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lend From joy to joy...
Seite xxxviii - The remotest discoveries of the Chemist, the Botanist, or Mineralogist will be as proper objects of the Poet's art as any upon which it can be employed if the time should ever come when these things shall be familiar to us and the relations under which they are contemplated by the followers of these respective sciences shall be manifestly and palpably material to us as enjoying and suffering beings.
Seite 153 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Seite xxxvii - He is the rock of defence for human nature; an upholder and preserver, carrying everywhere with him relationship and love. In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs : in spite of things silently gone out of mind, and things violently destroyed; the Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth, and over all time.
Seite 194 - In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless day-light ; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye ! Thou wanderer thro...
Seite 92 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Seite 192 - These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts, Which at this season, with their unripe fruits, Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves Among the woods and copses, nor disturb The wild green landscape. Once again I see These hedgerows, hardly hedgerows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild ; these pastoral farms, Green to the very door ; and wreaths of smoke Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!