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arms beauty beneath bower breast breathe bright brow called castle close cloud comes crowned dark dead death deep delight doth earth eyes face fair falls field fight flowers forest forms gentle gloom glory grace grave gray green hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Herne the hunter hills hour ISLE king knight lady ladye land leave light lives lonely look mind mountains never o'er once passed past peace pleasure queene rest rise river rock round scene seemed seen shade shore side sigh silent sleep song soul sound spirit stand stone stood stream strong sweet tears tell thee thou thoughts towers towne train trees turn unto vale voice walls waves weary wild wind woods youth
Seite 40 - 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, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
Seite 40 - All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains; and of all that we behold From this green earth ; of all the mighty world Of eye, and ear, — both what they half create, And what perceive...
Seite 77 - And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Seite 91 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood. Robed in the sable garb of woe. With haggard eyes the poet stood; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air), And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Seite 87 - Her eyes were fair, and very fair : Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be ?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they ? I pray you tell.
Seite 88 - And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there.
Seite 78 - Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood With solemn reverence : throw away respect, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while: I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, How can you say to me I am a king?
Seite 10 - Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, That they might answer him. — And they would shout Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call, — with quivering peals, And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud Redoubled and redoubled...