The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume 7

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Little, Brown, 1854
 

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Pagina 116 - To move along the edges of the hills Rising or setting, would he stand alone Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake, And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands Pressed closely palm to palm, and to his mouth Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, That they might answer him...
Pagina 148 - The invisible world, doth greatness make abode, There harbours, whether we be young or old; Our destiny, our being's heart and home, Is with infinitude, and only there; With hope it is, hope that can never die, Effort, and expectation, and desire, And something evermore about to be.
Pagina 321 - This spiritual Love acts not nor can exist Without Imagination, which, in truth, Is but another name for absolute power And clearest insight, amplitude of mind, And Reason in her most exalted mood.
Pagina 22 - Of unknown modes of being ; o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes Eemained, no pleasant images of trees, Of sea or sky, no colours of green fields ; But huge and mighty forms, that do not live Like living men, moved slowly through the mind By day, and were a trouble to my dreams.
Pagina 23 - By day, and were a trouble to my dreams. *Wisdom and Spirit of the universe ! Thou Soul that art the eternity of thought, That givest to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion, not in vain By day or star-light thus from my first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul ; Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects, with enduring things, — With...
Pagina 95 - Ah ! need I say, dear Friend ! that to the brim My heart was full; I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me ; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly, A dedicated Spirit.
Pagina 145 - That very day, From a bare ridge we also first beheld Unveiled the summit of Mont Blanc, and grieved To have a soulless image on the eye That had usurped upon a living thought That never more could be.
Pagina 322 - Of our long labour : we have traced the stream From the blind cavern whence is faintly heard Its natal murmur ; followed it to light And open day ; accompanied its course Among the ways of Nature, for a time Lost sight of it bewildered and engulphed : Then given it greeting as it rose once more In strength, reflecting from its placid breast The works of man and face of human life ; And lastly, from its progress have we drawn Faith in life endless, the sustaining thought Of human Being, Eternity,...

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