Memoirs of William Wordsworth, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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Moxon, 1851
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Page 203 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition , sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn ; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Page 182 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Page 134 - He is retired as noontide dew, Or fountain in a noonday grove; And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
Page 432 - Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice ; The confidence of reason give ; And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live ! 1805.
Page 380 - In the morning it is green and groweth up, but in the evening it is cut down, dried up, and withered.
Page 277 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 341 - The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company!
Page 268 - Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
Page 68 - The moment was important in my poetical history; for I date from it my consciousness of the infinite variety of natural appearances which had been unnoticed by the poets of any age or country, so far as I was acquainted with them; and I made a resolution to supply in some degree the deficiency.
Page 42 - 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...

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