The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, المجلد 1Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green & Longman, 1832 |
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الصفحة xl
... Poor unregarded Virtue , praise , And the neglected Poet , Bays . Thus shall our healths do others good , Whilst we ourselves do all we would ; For , freed from envy and from care , What would we be but what we are ? " It remains that I ...
... Poor unregarded Virtue , praise , And the neglected Poet , Bays . Thus shall our healths do others good , Whilst we ourselves do all we would ; For , freed from envy and from care , What would we be but what we are ? " It remains that I ...
الصفحة 21
William Wordsworth. -- " It will not , will not rest ! Poor Creature , can it be That ' tis thy mother's heart which is working so in thee ? Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear , And dreams of things which thou canst ...
William Wordsworth. -- " It will not , will not rest ! Poor Creature , can it be That ' tis thy mother's heart which is working so in thee ? Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear , And dreams of things which thou canst ...
الصفحة 56
... poor ; He views the Sun uplift his golden fire , Or sink , with heart alive like Memnon's lyre * ; Blesses the Moon that comes with kindly ray , To light him shaken by his rugged way ; With bashful fear no cottage children steal From ...
... poor ; He views the Sun uplift his golden fire , Or sink , with heart alive like Memnon's lyre * ; Blesses the Moon that comes with kindly ray , To light him shaken by his rugged way ; With bashful fear no cottage children steal From ...
الصفحة 73
... heaven Drives , eagle - like , those sons as he was driven ; His last dread pleasure watches to the plain- And never , eagle - like , beholds again ! " When the poor heart has all its joys resigned , DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES . 73 133.
... heaven Drives , eagle - like , those sons as he was driven ; His last dread pleasure watches to the plain- And never , eagle - like , beholds again ! " When the poor heart has all its joys resigned , DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES . 73 133.
الصفحة 74
William Wordsworth. When the poor heart has all its joys resigned , Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind ? Lo ! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves , Or by the lazy Seine , the exile roves ; Soft o'er the waters mournful ...
William Wordsworth. When the poor heart has all its joys resigned , Why does their sad remembrance cleave behind ? Lo ! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves , Or by the lazy Seine , the exile roves ; Soft o'er the waters mournful ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Alps art thou beneath Benjamin Betty Betty Foy Bird bowers breast breath bright Brother CHARLES LAMB cheer Child church-yard cliffs clouds Coleorton cottage crag dear delight door Ennerdale eyes Fancy Father fear feel flowers Friend gone Grasmere grave green happy hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven hills hope hour Idiot Boy images Imagination Johnny Kilve Lamb LEONARD light living look lyre mind Moon morning Mother mountain nature never night o'er Ossian pain Paradise Lost pleasure Poems Poet poetry porringer PRIEST racter Reader rill rocks round shade Shakspeare Shepherd side sight silent sing Skiddaw sleep smiles snow solitude song soul sound spirit spot star steep stone Sugh summer Susan sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought trees Twas vale voice Waggon ween wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wood youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة xxvii - As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie Couched on the bald top of an eminence ; Wonder to all who do the same espy, By what means it could thither come, and whence; So that it seems a thing endued with sense : Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself...
الصفحة 122 - I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee. 'Tis past, that melancholy dream! Nor will I quit thy shore A second time; for still I seem To love thee more and more. Among thy mountains did I feel The joy of my desire; And she I cherished turned her wheel Beside an English fire. Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed The bowers where Lucy played; And thine too is the last green field That Lucy's eyes surveyed.
الصفحة 14 - Then did the little maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard tree." "You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
الصفحة 120 - My horse moved on; hoof after hoof He raised, and never stopped : When down behind the cottage roof, At once, the bright moon dropped. What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a lover's head! "O mercy!" to myself I cried, "If Lucy should be dead!
الصفحة 336 - Works, it is this, — that every author, as far as he is great and at the same time original, has had the task of creating the taste by which he is to be enjoyed : so has it been, so will it continue to be.
الصفحة 252 - Joyous as morning, Thou art laughing and scorning ; Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, And, though little troubled with sloth, Drunken Lark ! thou would'st be loth To be such a traveller as I. Happy, happy Liver, With a soul as strong as a mountain River Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver...
الصفحة 12 - They followed from the snowy bank Those footmarks, one by one, Into the middle of the plank ; And further there were none...
الصفحة 182 - And with his kinsman's help and his own thrift He quickly will repair this loss, and then He may return to us. If here he stay, What can be done? Where every one is poor, What can be gained?
الصفحة 4 - Oh ! pleasant, pleasant were the days, The time, when, in our childish plays, My sister Emmeline and I Together chased the butterfly ! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey : — with leaps and springs I followed on from brake to bush ; But she, God love her ! feared to brush The dust from off its wings.
الصفحة 20 - What ails thee, young One? what? Why pull so at thy cord ? Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be; Rest, little young One, rest; what is't that aileth thee?