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Libri Libri 21 - 30 di 186 su tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped....
" 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 Earlier Poems of William Wordsworth: Corrected as in the Latest Editions ... - Pagina 343
di William Wordsworth - 1857 - 435 pagine
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Sacred History of the World Attempted to be Philosophically ..., Volume 2

Sharon Turner - 1834
...been provided to be, Thro primrose tufts in that sweet bower The periwinkle trail'd its wreathes ; And 'tis my faith, that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopp'd and play'd. Their thoughts I cannot measure ; But, the least motion which they made, It seem'da...
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The Sacred History of the World: As Displayed in the Creation and Subsequent ...

Sharon Turner - 1835
...think What man has made of man. * Through primrose tufts in that sweet bower The periwinkle trail 'd its wreaths ; And 'tis my faith, that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopp'd and play'd, Their though« I cannot measure ; But, the least motion winch they made, It seem'da...
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The Sacred History of the World: As Displayed in the Creation and ..., Volume 2

Sharon Turner - 1835
...to think What man has made of man. Through primrose tufts in that sweet bower The periwinkle trail'd its wreaths ; And 'tis my faith, that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopp'd and play'd, Their thoughts I cannot measure ; But, the least motion which they made, It seem'da...
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The Western Messenger, Volume 1

James Freeman Clarke, William Henry Channing, James Handasyd Perkins - 1836
...The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The budding twigs spread out their fan To catch the...think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there." It is the spirit which whispered these simple, and, to many it may be unmeaning lines, that we bow...
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Western Messenger, Volume 1

1836
...touch the heart as do the despised lines of Wordsworth, "Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith...that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The budding twigs spread out their fan To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there...
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The Sacred History of the World: Attempted to be Philosophically ..., Volume 2

Sharon Turner - 1838
...to think What man has made of man. Through primrose tufts in that sweet bower The periwinkle trail'd its wreaths ; And 'tis my faith, that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopp'd and play'd, Their thoughts I cannot measure ; But, the least motion which they made, It seein'da...
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Powhatan: A Metrical Romance, in Seven Cantos

Seba Smith - 1841 - 199 pagine
...either "a drug," or "too high-flown" to be enjoyed and understood by the mass of the reading public. " The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the...think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there." Poetry like that, will always find readers and admirers among all classes, whether high or low, rich...
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Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 49

1841
...of man. They are too familiar to need quotation : these are the closing verses : — " The Jmdding twigs spread out their fan ' To catch the breezy air...think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there. " From Heaven if this belief be sent, If this be Nature's holy plan, Have I not reason to lament What...
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Select pieces from the poems of William Wordsworth

William [poetical works Wordsworth (selections]) - 1843 - 233 pagine
...it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through primrose-tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith...thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fen, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there. If this...
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The Living Age ..., Volume 111

1871
...it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith...which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure." Or let us take this other : — " He is retired as noontide dew, Or fountain in a noonday grove. And...
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