The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, 第 1 卷

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W. Paterson, 1882

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第 265 頁 - These beauteous forms Through a long absence have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye : But oft. in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; And passing even into my purer mind With tranquil restoration...
第 269 頁 - And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance — If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence...
第 200 頁 - Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
第 231 頁 - tis my faith that every flower , Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure : — But the least motion which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure. ! The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air ; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there...
第 264 頁 - That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
第 268 頁 - tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead ; . From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is full of blessings.
第 195 頁 - ... mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside. Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, Down which she so often has tripped with her pail ; And a single small Cottage, a nest like a dove's, The one only dwelling on earth that she loves. She looks, and her heart is in heaven : but they fade, The mist and the river, the hill and the shade : The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise,...
第 200 頁 - My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem ; And there upon the ground I sit — I sit and sing to them. And often after sun-set, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. The first that died was sister Jane ; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain ; And then she went away.
第 236 頁 - Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness. 'Think you, "mid all this mighty sum Of things for ever speaking, That nothing of itself will come, But we must still be seeking? '- Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, Conversing as I may, I sit upon this old grey stone, And dream my time away.
第 199 頁 - That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad ; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; •*—Her beauty made me glad. 22 " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.

關於作者 (1882)

William Wordsworth, 1770 - 1850 Born April 7, 1770 in the "Lake Country" of northern England, the great English poet William Wordsworth, son of a prominent aristocrat, was orphaned at an early age. He attended boarding school in Hawkesmead and, after an undistinguished career at Cambridge, he spent a year in revolutionary France, before returning to England a penniless radical. Wordsworth later received honorary degrees from the University of Durham and Oxford University. He is best known for his work "The Prelude", which was published after his death. For five years, Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy lived very frugally in rural England, where they met Samuel Taylor Coleridge. "Lyrical Ballads", published anonymously in 1798, led off with Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner" and ended with Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey". Between these two masterworks are at least a dozen other great poems. "Lyrical Ballads" is often said to mark the beginning of the English romantic revolution. A second, augmented edition in 1800 was prefaced by one of the great manifestos in world literature, an essay that called for natural language in poetry, subject matter dealing with ordinary men and women, a return to emotions and imagination, and a conception of poetry as pleasure and prophecy. Together with Robert Southey, these three were known as the "Lake Poets", the elite of English poetry. Before he was 30, Wordsworth had begun the supreme work of his life, The Prelude, an immensely long autobiographical work on "The Growth of the Poet's Mind," a theme unprecedented in poetry. Although first finished in 1805, The Prelude was never published in Wordsworth's lifetime. Between 1797 and 1807, he produced a steady stream of magnificent works, but little of his work over the last four decades of his life matters greatly. "The Excursion", a poem of epic length, was considered by Hazlitt and Keats to be among the wonders of the age. After "Lyrical Ballads", Wordsworth turned to his own life, his spiritual and poetical development, as his major theme. More than anyone else, he dealt with mysterious affinities between nature and humanity. Poems like the "Ode on the Intimations of Immortality" have a mystical power quite independent of any particular creed, and simple lyrics like "The Solitary Reaper" produced amazingly powerful effects with the simplest materials. Wordsworth also revived the sonnet and is one of the greatest masters of that form. Wordsworth is one of the giants of English poetry and criticism, his work ranging from the almost childishly simple to the philosophically profound. Wordsworth married Mary Hutchinson in 1802 and in 1813, obtained a sinecure as distributor of stamps for Westmoreland. At this stage of his life, Wordsworth's political beliefs had strayed from liberal to staunchly conservative. His last works were published around 1835, a few trickled in as the years went on, but the bulk of his writing had slowed. In 1842 he was awarded a government pension and in 1843 became the Poet Laureate of England, after the post was vacated by his friend Coleridge. Wordsworth wrote over 523 sonnets in the course of his lifetime. Wordsworth died at Rydal Mount on April 23, 1850. He is buried in Grasme Curchyard. He was 80 years old.

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