The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume 1

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E. Moxon, son & Company, 1871 - Superexlibris - 568 pages

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Page 114 - The floating clouds their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy. The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Page 114 - As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream, The unfettered clouds and region of the Heavens, Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light — Were all like workings of one mind, the features Of the same face, blossoms upon one tree ; Characters of the great Apocalypse, The types and symbols of Eternity, Of first, and last, and midst, and without end.
Page 159 - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder— everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year; And worshipp'st...
Page 127 - 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. And so I dare to hope, Though...
Page 299 - STERN Daughter of the Voice of God ! O Duty ! if that name thou love Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove ; Thou, who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe, From vain temptations dost set free, And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!
Page 48 - A SIMPLE Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: Her eyes were fair, and very fair ; — Her beauty made me glad. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Page 176 - Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings ? Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago : Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day ? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again ? Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang As if her song could have no ending ; I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending ; I listened, motionless and still ; And, as I mounted...
Page 357 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
Page 299 - No sport of every random gust, Yet being to myself a guide, Too blindly have reposed my trust: And oft, when in my heart was heard Thy timely mandate, I deferred The task, in smoother walks to stray; But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may.
Page 127 - 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. Nor wilt thou then forget, That after many wanderings, many years Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs, And this...

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