Lyrical Ballads,: With Pastoral and Other Poems. In Two Volumes, Issue 357, Volume 2Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, By R. Taylor and Company, 1805 |
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Page 11
... here beneath the scented thorn He heard the birds their morning carols sing ; And he , perhaps , for aught we know , was born Not half a furlong from that self - same spring . But now here's neither grass nor pleasant shade ; The 11.
... here beneath the scented thorn He heard the birds their morning carols sing ; And he , perhaps , for aught we know , was born Not half a furlong from that self - same spring . But now here's neither grass nor pleasant shade ; The 11.
Page 15
... born : the Church - yard hangs Upon a slope above the Village School , And there , along that bank , when I have passed At evening , I believe , that oftentimes A full half - hour together I have stood Mute - looking at the grave in ...
... born : the Church - yard hangs Upon a slope above the Village School , And there , along that bank , when I have passed At evening , I believe , that oftentimes A full half - hour together I have stood Mute - looking at the grave in ...
Page 27
... ice breaks up and sweeps away a bridge- A wood is felled : -and then for our own homes ! A Child is born or christened , a Field ploughed , A Daughter sent to service , a Web spun , The old House - clock is decked with a new 12 27.
... ice breaks up and sweeps away a bridge- A wood is felled : -and then for our own homes ! A Child is born or christened , a Field ploughed , A Daughter sent to service , a Web spun , The old House - clock is decked with a new 12 27.
Page 29
... born and dies among the mountains . LEONARD . Your Dalesmen , then , do in each other's thoughts Possess a kind of second life : no doubt You , Sir , could help me to the history Of half these Graves ? PRIEST . For eight - score winters ...
... born and dies among the mountains . LEONARD . Your Dalesmen , then , do in each other's thoughts Possess a kind of second life : no doubt You , Sir , could help me to the history Of half these Graves ? PRIEST . For eight - score winters ...
Page 34
... born , That God who made the great book of the world Would bless such piety— LEONARD . It may be then- PRIEST . Never did worthier lads break English bread ! The finest Sunday that the Autumn saw , With all its mealy clusters of ripe ...
... born , That God who made the great book of the world Would bless such piety— LEONARD . It may be then- PRIEST . Never did worthier lads break English bread ! The finest Sunday that the Autumn saw , With all its mealy clusters of ripe ...
Common terms and phrases
aged Beggar Ambleside ANDREW JONES antient Art thou bason beneath bless bower brook Brother cataract cheerful Child church-yard cottage crag Cumberland dead dear delight dell door dwell earth Egremont Enna Ennerdale eyes fair Father feel fields fire-side flowers Friends gentle gone Grasmere grave green greenwood tree half hand happy hath heard heart Heaven hills hither hour Isabel Kirtle lake Lamb language LEONARD live look Lucy Luke metre Michael mind morning mountain murmur Nature never night o'er passed Playmate pleasure POEM poetic diction Poets poor PRIEST quiet Richard Bateman rills rocks round rude Ruth seemed shade sheep Sheep-fold Shepherd side silent Sir Walter Skiddaw sleep song soul sound spake spot spring stone stood summer sweet thee things thou art thoughts Thrush trees turned Twas Twill vale village voice ween wild wind woods Youth
Popular passages
Page 137 - The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell ; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While she and I together live Here in this happy dell.
Page 136 - Three years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower On earth was never sown ; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A Lady of my own.
Page 137 - The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; » Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden's form By silent sympathy.
Page 52 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Page 73 - 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 daybreak on a hill they stood That overlooked the moor; And thence they saw the bridge of wood, A furlong from their door. They wept - and, turning homeward, cried, "In heaven we all shall meet"; - When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet.
Page 107 - The youth of green savannahs spake, And many an endless, endless lake, With all its fairy crowds Of islands, that together lie As quietly as spots of sky Among the evening clouds.
Page 224 - He may return to us. If here he stay, What can be done? Where every one is poor, What can be gained?
Page 142 - Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in this can Fresh water from the brook as clear as ever ran ; And twice in the day when the ground is wet with dew I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new.
Page 220 - Receiving from his Father hire of praise ; Though nought was left undone which staff, or voice, Or looks, or threatening gestures, could perform. But soon as Luke, full ten years old, could stand Against the mountain blasts ; and to the heights, Not fearing toil, nor length of weary ways, He with his Father daily went, and they...
Page 74 - And then an open field they crossed : The marks were still the same; They tracked them on, nor ever lost; And to the bridge they came. They followed from the snowy bank Those footmarks, one by one, Into the middle of the plank; And further there were none ! — Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living child ; That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome wild.