The Prelude, Or, Growth of a Poet's Mind: An Autobiographical Poem

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D. Appleton, 1850 - 374 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 40 - Alone upon the rock — oh, then, the calm And dead still water lay upon my mind Even with a weight of pleasure, and the sky, Never before so beautiful, sank down Into my heart, and held me like a dream...
الصفحة 122 - There was a Boy : ye knew him well, ye cliffs And islands of Winander ! — many a time At evening, when the earliest stars began To move along the edges of the hills, Rising or setting, would he stand alone Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake, And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands 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...
الصفحة 218 - In size a giant, stalking through thick fog, His sheep like Greenland bears; or, as he stepped Beyond the boundary line of some hill-shadow, His form hath flashed upon me, glorified By the deep radiance of the setting sun...
الصفحة 260 - Who crept along fitting her languid gait Unto a heifer's motion, by a cord Tied to her arm, and picking thus from the lane Its sustenance, while the girl with pallid hands Was busy knitting in a heartless mood Of solitude, and at the sight my friend In agitation said, "'Tis against that That we are fighting...
الصفحة 327 - It was, in truth, An ordinary sight ; but I should need Colours and words that are unknown to man, To paint the visionary dreariness...
الصفحة 58 - The antechapel where the statue stood Of Newton with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind for ever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
الصفحة 19 - Of unknown modes of being ; o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes Remained, no pleasant images of trees, Of sea or sky, no colors of green fields ; But huge and mighty forms, that do not live Like living men, moved slowly through the mind By day, and were a trouble to my dreams.
الصفحة 299 - O times, In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways Of custom, law. and statute, took at once The attraction of a country in romance ! When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights When most intent on making of herself A prime enchantress...
الصفحة 201 - Children, Babes in arms. Oh, blank confusion ! true epitome Of what the mighty City is herself, To thousands upon thousands of her sons, Living amid the same perpetual whirl Of trivial objects, melted and reduced To one identity, by differences That have no law, no meaning, and no end — Oppression, under which even highest minds Must labour, whence the strongest are not free.
الصفحة 19 - Wisdom and Spirit of the universe ! Thou soul that art the eternity of thought, That givest to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion, not in vain By day or star-light thus from my first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul ; Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects, with enduring things — With...

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