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beauty beneath blessed breath bright called cheerful Child clouds comes dead dear delight doth earth Edited face fair Father fear feel fields flowers Friend give glory gone grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven hills hope hour human kind land leave light live look mind moral morning mountain Nature never Notes o'er once passed past peace pleasure poems poet poetry poor praise rest rocks round season seemed seen Selected shade side sight silent song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stand stone stood stream summer sweet tears thee things thou thought trees truth turned vale voice wild wind wish woods Wordsworth youth
Page 192 - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all.
Page 214 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration: the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder — everlastingly.
Page 196 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence ; truths that wake, To perish never ; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy...
Page 3 - Not blither is the mountain roe: With many a wanton stroke Her feet disperse the powdery snow, That rises up like smoke. The storm came on before its time: She wandered up and down; And many a hill did Lucy climb: But never reached the town. The wretched parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At day-break on a hill they stood That overlooked the moor; And thence they saw the bridge of wood, A furlong from their door. They...
Page 198 - Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Page xxxi - 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.
Page xv - One adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists — one only; an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good.
Page 190 - Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice ; The confidence of reason give ; And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live ! 1805.
Page 179 - But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for human kind, Is happy as a lover ; and attired With sudden brightness, like a man inspired ; And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw...