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"Recollections of a Tour Made in Scotland, A. D. 1803" (1874) is travel literature by Dorothy Wordsworth about a six-week, 663-mile journey through the Scottish Highlands starting on August 15th 1803 ... Read full review
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A Recollections of a Tour Made in Scotland, Part 1803
No preview available - 2013
Alfoxden appeared banks beautiful Ben Lomond boat breakfast Cairndow Callander Castle cheerful cloth cold Coleridge colour corn cottage crossed Crown 8vo cultivated Dalmally delightful distance door Edinburgh Edition English exceedingly Fcap ferry-house fields fire foot girl Glen Coe Grasmere green ground half head Highland hills horse Inverary Inveroran island Kilchurn Castle lake land Leadhills lived Loch Achray Loch Awe Loch Etive Loch Ketterine Loch Lomond Loch Voil looked miles mists morning mountains narrow o'clock opposite passed pleasant pleasing pleasure poems Portnacroish rain river road rocks rocky sate scattered scene Scotch Scotland sea-loch seemed seen shelter shore side sight spot steep stone stood stream Taynuilt thee thought told town travelled trees Trossachs Tyndrum vale valley village walk waterfall whole wild William wind woman wood Wordsworth
Page 237 - 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; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Page 178 - The immeasurable height Of woods decaying, never to be decayed, The stationary blasts of waterfalls, And in the narrow rent at every turn Winds thwarting winds, bewildered and forlorn, The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky, The rocks that muttered close upon our ears, Black drizzling crags that spake by the way-side As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream...
Page 6 - Is there a man whose judgment clear, Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause — and, thro' the starting tear, Survey this grave. The poor Inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame, But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name ! Reader, attend — whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit ;...
Page 308 - There's not a nook within this solemn Pass, But were an apt Confessional for one Taught by his summer spent, his autumn gone, That Life is but a tale of morning grass Withered at eve. From scenes of art which chase That thought away, turn, and with watchful eyes Feed it 'mid Nature's old felicities, Rocks, rivers, and smooth lakes more clear than glass Untouched, unbreathed upon.
Page 280 - And surely here it may be said That such are blest. And oh for Thee, by pitying grace Checked ofttimes in a devious race, May He who halloweth the place Where Man is laid Receive thy Spirit in the embrace For which it prayed ! Sighing I turned away ; but ere Night fell I heard, or seemed to hear, Music that sorrow comes not near, A ritual hymn, Chaunted in love that casts out fear By Seraphim. THOUGHTS SUGGESTED THE DAY FOLLOWING, ON THE BANKS OF NITH, NEAR THE POET'S RESIDENCE. TOO frail to keep...
Page 311 - The Rock, like something starting from a sleep, Took up the lady's voice, and laughed again ; That ancient woman seated on Helm-crag Was ready with her cavern ; Hammar-scar, And the tall steep of Silver-how, sent forth A noise of laughter ; southern Loughrigg heard, And Fairfield answered with a mountain tone ; Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky Carried the lady's voice ; old Skiddaw blew His speaking-trumpet ; back out of the clouds Of Glaramara southward came the voice ; And Kirkstone tossed...
Page 308 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Page 221 - What you are stepping westward?' 'What you are stepping westward?' — 'Yea' — Twould be a wildish destiny, If we, who thus together roam In a strange Land, and far from home, Were in this place the guests of Chance: Yet who would stop, or fear to advance, Though home or shelter he had none, With such a Sky to lead him on? The dewy ground was dark and cold; Behind, all gloomy to behold; And...
Page 302 - But thou, that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation : Meek loveliness is round thee spread, A softness still and holy ; The grace of forest charms decayed, And pastoral melancholy.