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admiration art thou aught BATTLE OF WATERLOO beauty behold beneath blind brave breath bright brow Busk Calais cheer clouds Cruachan dark dear delight doth dream earth fair faith Fancy fear feel flowers genius gentle glory grace GRASMERE grave ground Guernica happy hast hath heard heart Heaven hill honour hope human King Arthur KING OF SWEDEN labour Lady lake liberty light living LOCH LOMOND lonely Lord meek Merlin mighty mind mortal mountains Muse nature Nature's night o'er Ossian pain Paradise Lost passion peace pensive Poems Poet poetical poetry praise pure rapture Rob Roy rock Scotland Shakspeare shore sigh sight silent sleep soft song Sonnet sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood stream strife sweet thee thine things thou art thought towers triumph truth vale voice wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wing words Yarrow youth
Page 124 - 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?
Page 3 - NUNS fret not at their convent's narrow room ; And hermits are contented with their cells ; And students with their pensive citadels : Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom, Sit blithe and happy ; bees that soar for bloom, High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells, Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells : In truth, the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is...
Page 29 - SURPRISED by joy — impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport — Oh ! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find ? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind — But how could I forget thee ? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour...
Page 123 - 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; 0 listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Page 35 - God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Page 188 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea...
Page 190 - Roused though it be full often to a mood Which spurns the check of salutary bands, That this most famous Stream in bogs and sands Should perish ; and to evil and to good Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung Armoury of the invincible Knights of old...
Page 134 - Selkirk town, Who have been buying, selling, Go back to Yarrow, 'tis their own; Each maiden to her dwelling! On Yarrow's banks let herons feed, Hares couch, and rabbits burrow! But we will downward with the Tweed, Nor turn aside to Yarrow.
Page 180 - ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC. ONCE did She hold the gorgeous east in fee ; And was the safeguard of the west : the worth Of Venice did not fall below her birth, Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty. She was a maiden City, bright and free ; No guile seduced, no force could violate ; And, when she took unto herself a Mate, She must espouse the everlasting Sea. And what if she had seen those glories fade, Those titles vanish, and that strength decay...