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admiration appear beauty behold beneath blind breath bright cheer clouds course dark dear death deep delight dream earth face fair faith Fancy fear feel field flowers genius give grace grave ground hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour human kind King Lady land less liberty light living look Lord memory mighty mind mountains nature never night o'er once pain passed peace Poems Poet poetry praise pure rest rise rock seemed seen shore side sight silent sleep soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stand stars stood stream strong sweet thee thine things thou thought touch towers true truth turn vale voice waters wild wind wing Yarrow youth
Seite 188 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Seite 16 - Sleepless! and soon the small birds' melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees; And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth: So do not let me wear tonight...
Seite 3 - NUNS fret not at their convent's narrow room ; And hermits are contented with their cells ; And students with their pensive citadels Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom, Sit blithe and happy ; bees that soar for bloom, High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells, Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells : In truth, the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is...
Seite 200 - ANOTHER year ! — another deadly blow ! Another mighty Empire overthrown ! And We are left, or shall be left, alone ; The last that dare to struggle with the Foe. Tis well ! from this day forward we shall know That in ourselves our safety must be sought ; That by our own right hands it must be wrought ; That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
Seite 35 - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Seite 50 - SCORN not the Sonnet ; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours ; with this key Shakspeare unlocked his heart ; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound ; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound ; With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow : a glow-worm lamp, It...
Seite 123 - Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; 0 listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Seite 187 - O Friend ! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom ! — We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest : The wealthiest man among us is the best: No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us.
Seite 41 - Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.