Resultado da Busca
Há 2 dias · More palpable, and so she dealt with me. One evening (surely I was led by her) I went alone into a Shepherd's Boat, A Skiff that to a Willow tree was tied. Within a rocky Cave, its usual home. 'Twas by the shores of Patterdale, a Vale. Wherein I was a Stranger, thither come. A School -boy Traveller, at the Holidays.
Há 4 dias · To A Snowdrop. Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they. But hardier far, once more I see thee bend. Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend, Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day, Storms, sallying from the mountain -tops, waylay. The rising sun, and on the plains descend; Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend.
Há 2 dias · Yew-trees. There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Which to this day stands single, in the midst. Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore: Not loathe to furnish weapons for the Bands. Of Umfraville or Percy ere they marched. To Scotland's heaths; or those that crossed the sea. And drew their sounding bows at Azincour,
Há 2 dias · Cuts like a scythe, while through the clouds. It sweeps from vale to vale; Not five yards from the mountain path, This Thorn you on your left espy; And to the left, three yards beyond, You see a little muddy pond. Of water --never dry. Though but of compass small, and bare. To thirsty suns and parching air.
Há 5 dias · May peace come never to his nest, Who shall reprove thee! Bright ' Flower '! for by that name at last, When all my reveries are past, I call thee, and to that cleave fast, Sweet silent creature! That breath 'st with me in sun and air, Do thou, as thou art wont, repair. My heart with gladness, and a share.
Há 3 dias · Or whistling thro' thin grass along the unfurrowed plain. V. Long had he fancied each successive slope. Concealed some cottage, whither he might turn. And rest; but now along heaven 's darkening cope. The crows rushed by in eddies, homeward borne. Thus warned he sought some shepherd's spreading thorn.
Há 3 dias · To Cordelia M.... - Hallsteads, Ullswater. Not in the mines beyond the western main, You say, Cordelia, was the metal sought, Which a fine skill, of Indian growth, has wrought. Into this flexible yet faithful Chain; Nor is it silver of romantic Spain.
