Part i
. Stanza 26._[468-1]
One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
_Nutting._
She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove,-- A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.
_She dwelt among the untrodden ways._
A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye; Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
_She dwelt among the untrodden ways._
She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me!
_She dwelt among the untrodden ways._
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.
_Three years she grew in Sun and Shower._
May no rude hand deface it, And its forlorn _hic jacet!_
_Ellen Irwin._
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love and thought and joy.
_The Sparrow's Nest._
The child is father of the man.[469-1]
_My heart leaps up when I behold._
The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising; There are forty feeding like one!
_The Cock is crowing._
Sweet childish days, that were as long As twenty days are now.
_To a Butterfly. I 've watched you now a full half-hour._
Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,-- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
_To the Small Celandine._
As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
_Resolution and Independence. Stanza 4._
But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?
_Resolution and Independence. Stanza 6._
I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride; Of him who walked in glory and in joy, Following his plough, along the mountain-side. By our own spirits we are deified; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness, But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
_Resolution and Independence. Stanza 7._
That heareth not the loud winds when they call, And moveth all together, if it moves at all.
_Resolution and Independence. Stanza 11._
Choice word and measured phrase above the reach Of ordinary men.
_Resolution and Independence. Stanza 14._
And mighty poets in their misery dead.
_Resolution and Independence. Stanza 17._
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will; Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!
_Earth has not anything to show more fair._
The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.
_It is a beauteous Evening._
Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great is passed away.
_On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic._
Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,--air, earth, and skies! There 's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.[471-1]
_To Toussaint L' Ouverture._
One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave.
_A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 5._
He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
_A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 10._
And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
_A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 11._
The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
_A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 13._
Yet sometimes, when the secret cup Of still and serious thought went round, It seemed as if he drank it up, He felt with spirit so profound.
_Matthew._
My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
_The Fountain._
A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free.
_The Fountain._
And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
_The Fountain._
The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door.
_Lucy Gray. Stanza 2._
A youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of heaven.
_Ruth._
Until a man might travel twelve stout miles, Or reap an acre of his neighbor's corn.
_The Brothers._
Something between a hindrance and a help.
_Michael._
Drink, pretty creature, drink!
_The Pet Lamb._
Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
_A narrow Girdle of rough Stones and Crags._
And he is oft the wisest man Who is not wise at all.
_The Oak and the Broom._
"A jolly place," said he, "in times of old! But something ails it now: the spot is cursed."
_Hart-leap Well. Part ii ._
Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream.
_Hart-leap Well. Part ii ._
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
_Hart-leap Well.