Lyrical Ballads: With Pastoral and Other PoemsT.N. Longman and O.Rees, 1802 |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果，共 20 筆
第 4 頁
... mountain's head , A freshening lustre mellow Through all the long green fields has spread , His first sweet evening yellow . Books ! ' tis a dull and endless strife : The Tables turned; an Evening Scene, on same subject.
... mountain's head , A freshening lustre mellow Through all the long green fields has spread , His first sweet evening yellow . Books ! ' tis a dull and endless strife : The Tables turned; an Evening Scene, on same subject.
第 20 頁
... mountain did they feed , They throve , and we at home did thrive . -This lusty Lamb of all my store Is all that is alive ; And now I care not if we die , And perish all of poverty . Six Children , Sir ! had I to feed , Hard labour in a ...
... mountain did they feed , They throve , and we at home did thrive . -This lusty Lamb of all my store Is all that is alive ; And now I care not if we die , And perish all of poverty . Six Children , Sir ! had I to feed , Hard labour in a ...
第 36 頁
... mountain's highest ridge , Where oft the stormy winter gale Cuts like a scythe , while through the clouds It sweeps from vale to vale ; Not five yards from the mountain path , This Thorn you on your left espy ; And to 36.
... mountain's highest ridge , Where oft the stormy winter gale Cuts like a scythe , while through the clouds It sweeps from vale to vale ; Not five yards from the mountain path , This Thorn you on your left espy ; And to 36.
第 38 頁
... would you see this aged Thorn , This Pond , and beauteous Hill of moss , You must take care and chuse your time The mountain when to cross . For oft there sits , between the Heap That's like an infant's grave in size , And that 38.
... would you see this aged Thorn , This Pond , and beauteous Hill of moss , You must take care and chuse your time The mountain when to cross . For oft there sits , between the Heap That's like an infant's grave in size , And that 38.
第 40 頁
... mountain - top " Does this poor Woman go ? " And why sits she beside the Thorn " When the blue day - light's in the sky , " Or when the whirlwind's on the hill , " Or frosty air is keen and still , " And wherefore does she cry ? - " Oh ...
... mountain - top " Does this poor Woman go ? " And why sits she beside the Thorn " When the blue day - light's in the sky , " Or when the whirlwind's on the hill , " Or frosty air is keen and still , " And wherefore does she cry ? - " Oh ...
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常見字詞
Albatross ancient Mariner Babe Beneath Betty Foy Betty's birds black lips breeze chatter church-yard cold dead dear door endeavoured excitement fair fear feelings Friend Goody Blake green happy Harry Gill hath head hear heard heart high crag Hill of moss hope Idiot Boy Johnny Johnny's Kilve land of mist language limbs Liswyn farm live look'd looks Maid Martha Ray metre mind mist moon moonlight mountain mov'd nature never night numbers o'er objects oh misery Owlets pain pass'd passion pleasure Poems Poet Poet's poetic diction Poetry Pond Pony poor old poor Susan porringer pray produced prose Quoth Reader round Ship silent Simon Lee song soul spirit Stephen Hill stood sweet tale tautology tears tell thee There's things Thorn thou thought thro tion tree truth Twas verse voice wedding-guest wherefore wild wind wood words Young Harry
熱門章節
第 195 頁 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colors and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
第 196 頁 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
第 vii 頁 - Humble and rustic life was generally chosen, because, in that condition, the essential passions of the heart find a better soil in which they can attain their maturity, are less under restraint, and speak a plainer and more emphatic language...
第 198 頁 - My dear dear Friend ; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. Oh ! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear dear Sister! and this prayer I make Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lend From joy to joy...
第 xxxviii 頁 - The remotest discoveries of the Chemist, the Botanist, or Mineralogist will be as proper objects of the Poet's art as any upon which it can be employed if the time should ever come when these things shall be familiar to us and the relations under which they are contemplated by the followers of these respective sciences shall be manifestly and palpably material to us as enjoying and suffering beings.
第 153 頁 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
第 xxxvii 頁 - He is the rock of defence for human nature; an upholder and preserver, carrying everywhere with him relationship and love. In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs : in spite of things silently gone out of mind, and things violently destroyed; the Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth, and over all time.
第 194 頁 - In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless day-light ; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye ! Thou wanderer thro...
第 92 頁 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
第 192 頁 - These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts, Which at this season, with their unripe fruits, Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves Among the woods and copses, nor disturb The wild green landscape. Once again I see These hedgerows, hardly hedgerows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild ; these pastoral farms, Green to the very door ; and wreaths of smoke Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!