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animals appeal attitude beauty birds Blake calls century child childhood classical close Compare conception cottage death delight difference early effect eighteenth century element emotion English experience expression face fact father fear feeling fields flowers force gives hand happy hear heart human indicate individual industry infant influence Innocence interest learned less light lines live London look master mind mood moral mother native nature never notes noticed o'er observation once parents passage phrasing play poem poet's poetic poetry poets poor reader recalls recollection reference reflected reveals sense sentimental shows simple Songs soul spirit story suggestion sweet teach tear thee Thomson thou thought tion traditional true turn universal verse village Wordsworth write young youth
Page 396 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy soul's immensity ; Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind. That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind ; — Mighty prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest. Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
Page 392 - We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts today Feel the gladness of the May!
Page 391 - Hence in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore...
Page 133 - He who stills the raven's clam'rous nest, And decks the lily fair in flowery pride, Would in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide ; But chiefly in their hearts with grace divine preside.
Page 395 - I hear! —But there's a Tree, of many one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone: The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
Page 226 - How skilfully she builds her cell ! How neat she spreads the wax ! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour, or of skill, I would be busy too ; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be past; That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
Page 132 - Belyve,* the elder bairns come drapping in, At service out, amang the farmers roun
Page 290 - WHEN my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry