Lyrical Ballads: With a Few Other Poems
"A landmark in Romanticism, and one of the most celebrated of all collaborative literary works, Lyrical Ballads includes Wordsworth's 'Tintern Abbey' and the earliest version of Coleridge's 'Rime of the Ancyent Marinere'. Originally the poem 'Lewti' appeared on pages 63-7; but as this was known to be by Coleridge and the authors wished to preserve their anonymity, these leaves were cancelled before publication and replaced by 'The Nightingale'. The corresponding change was made in the table of contents"--Abebooks website. Pagination errors remained as a result of the substitution of 'The Nightingale."
ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
Review: Lyrical Ballads, with Other Poems (1800)معاينة المستخدمين - Ke Huang - Goodreads
As a reader who also happens to be engaged with modernist writers, I would say that romantic poetry appears elementary. That said, the works are exquisite and I am glad to have gotten this perspective. قراءة التقييم بأكمله
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
babe Beneath Betty Betty's birds body breath bright bring child close cold comes dead dear deep door dreadful face fair father fear feel fire five gone Goody green hand happy Harry hath head hear heard heart heaven hill horse hour idiot boy Johnny land light limbs LINES live look Marinere mind misery moon moonlight morning moss mother mountain nature never night o'er once pain perhaps pleasure pond pony poor pray round sails seemed seven Ship side silent soon soul sound spirit stand stars stood strange Susan sweet tale tears tell thee There's things thorn thou thought Till tree turned Twas voice wide wild wind wish woman wood young youth
الصفحة 111 - 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.
الصفحة 210 - And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance, If I should be, where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence, wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I, so long A worshipper of Nature, hither came, Unwearied in that service : rather say With warmer love, oh ! with far deeper zeal Of holier love.
الصفحة 7 - The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy.
الصفحة 205 - The picture of the mind revives again ; While here I stand, not only with the sense Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts That in this moment there is life and food For future years.
الصفحة 202 - That on a wild, secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion, and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
الصفحة 35 - Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
الصفحة 112 - 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 203 - But oft. in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; And passing even into my purer mind With tranquil restoration...
الصفحة 210 - When these wild ecstasies shall be matured Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief. Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations'.
الصفحة 206 - What then I was. 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.