The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume 5

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W. Paterson, 1884

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Page 191 - Even such a shell the universe itself Is to the ear of Faith ; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things; Of ebb and flow, and ever-during power; And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless agitation.
Page 33 - The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him; it was blessedness and love!
Page 109 - And wear thou this" — she solemn said, And bound the Holly round my head : The polish'd leaves, and berries red, Did rustling play ; And, like a passing thought, she fled In light away.
Page 46 - Oh, sir, the good die first, And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust Burn to the socket.
Page 62 - That secret spirit of humanity Which, mid the calm oblivious tendencies Of nature, mid her plants, and weeds, and flowers, And silent overgrowings, still survived.
Page 20 - Paradise, and groves Elysian, Fortunate Fields — like those of old Sought in the Atlantic Main — why should they be A history only of departed things, Or a mere fiction of what never was...
Page 371 - Believe it not : The primal duties shine aloft — like stars ; The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of Man — like flowers.
Page 80 - It seemed the home of poverty and toil. Though not of want: the little fields, made green By husbandry of many thrifty years, Paid cheerful tribute to the moorland house. —There crows the cock, single in his domain : The small birds find in spring no thicket there To shroud them ; only from the neighbouring vales The cuckoo, straggling up to the hill tops, Shouteth faint tidings of some gladder place.
Page 263 - For robes with regal purple tinged ; convert The crook into a sceptre ; give the pomp Of circumstance ; and here the tragic Muse Shall find apt subjects for her highest art. Amid the groves, under the shadowy hills,1 The generations are prepared ; the pangs, The internal pangs, are ready ; the dread strife Of poor humanity's afflicted will Struggling in vain with ruthless destiny.
Page 366 - And may it not be hoped, that, placed by age In like removal, tranquil though severe, We are not so removed for utter loss ; But for some favour, suited to our need? What more than that the severing should confer Fresh power to commune with the invisible world, And hear the mighty stream of tendency...

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