What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Alfoxden Alice Alison army asked aunt beauty believe Belle Island Belle Isle better boys bread brother called Carlingford Charles Buller church clothing Colin Colonel dear death diarrhoea England English Ermine eyes Fanny father feeling Fort Delaware friends give Grace Grasmere hand heard heart hope hospital human hundred Johnson's Island Keith kind knew Lady Temple Lauderdale less Libby Prison living Lockhart look Lord Lord Keith Madame Roland means ment Meredith mind Miss Myrtlewood nature never officers once perhaps person poems poet poetry poor prisoners prisoners of war Rachel rations rebel seems sick sister soldiers soul spirit suffering Surgeon sworn taken talk tell things thought tion told Tony Tony Butler truth turned voice Whately whole William woman words Wordsworth young
Page 360 - Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.
Page 530 - Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering South, The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth; Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster, Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster. The heart of the steed, and the heart of the master Were beating like prisoners...
Page 530 - UP from the South at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away.
Page 530 - Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, With Sheridan only ten miles away. Under his spurning feet the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, And the landscape sped away behind Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, Swept on, with his wild eyes full of fire.
Page 80 - There came from me a sigh of pain Which I could ill confine; I looked at her, and looked again : And did not wish her mine !' Matthew is in his grave, yet now, Methinks, I see him stand, As at that moment, with a bough Of wilding in his hand.
Page 102 - Embosomed for a season in nature, whose floods of life stream around and through us, and invite us by the powers they supply, to action proportioned to nature, why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe ? The sun shines to-day also.
Page 58 - The antechapel where the statue stood Of Newton with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind for ever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
Page 90 - The foregoing generations beheld God and nature face to face; we, through their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not the history of theirs?
Page 69 - I doubt not that you will share with me an invincible confidence that my writings (and among them these little poems) will co-operate with the benign tendencies in human nature and society, wherever found ; and that they will, in their degree, be efficacious in making men wiser, better, and happier.
Page 82 - So still an image of tranquillity, So calm and still, .and looked so beautiful Amid the uneasy thoughts which filled my mind, That what we feel of sorrow and despair From ruin and from change, and all the grief That passing shows of Being leave behind, Appeared an idle dream, that could not live Where meditation was. I turned away, And walked along my road in happiness.