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admiration appear beauty become bliss body breath called cause character charm Church cloud contemplation course dark Death deep delight divine earth effect eloquent entered expression face fair faith fancy fathers feeling flow flowers frequently glory hand hath hear heard heart heaven Hermione holy honor hope hour human imagination influence King leaves less light living Lodge look man's meaning memory Milton mind moral morning mother move Nature never Night noble object once opinion passed passion pleasant pleasure Poet Poet's poetic Poetry praise present regard remark rest rise scene season seemed seen Shakspeare sleep smile sometimes song sorrow soul sound speak sphere spirit Spring sweet things thou thought Truth turn voice wing Wordsworth youth
Strona 180 - tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, ^ That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Strona 177 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them ? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...
Strona 201 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Strona 153 - We rest. — A dream has power to poison sleep ; We rise. — One wandering thought pollutes the day ; We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep; Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away : It is the same!
Strona 192 - Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year most part deform'd With dripping rains, or wither'd by a frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers.
Strona 38 - May plume her feathers and let grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd...
Strona 191 - I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho
Strona 14 - Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years ; few and evil have the days of the years of my life been...
Strona 110 - More sweet than odours caught by him who sails Near spicy shores of Araby the blest, A thousand times more exquisitely sweet, The freight of holy feeling which we meet, In thoughtful moments, wafted by the gales From fields where good men walk, or bowers wherein they rest.
Strona 253 - Speak, whimpering younglings; and make known The reason why Ye droop, and weep. Is it for want of sleep; Or childish lullaby ? Or, that ye have not seen as yet The violet? Or brought a kiss From that sweetheart to this? No, no; this sorrow, shown By your tears shed, Would have this lecture read, * That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth.