Recollections of a Tour Made in Scotland A.D. 1803Putnam, 1874 - 316 sider |
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appeared banks beautiful Ben Lomond boat breakfast Cairndow Callander castle cheerful Clovenford cold Coleridge colour corn cottage crossed cultivated Dalmally delight distance door exceedingly ferry-house fields fire foot Glen Coe Grasmere green ground half head heart Highland hills horse Inverary Inveroran island Jedburgh Kilchurn Castle lake land Leadhills lived Loch Achray Loch Awe Loch Etive Loch Ketterine Loch Lomond Loch Voil lodge looked miles mists morning mountains narrow night o'clock opposite passed pleasant pleasing pleasure poem poor Portnacroish pretty public-house rain river road rocks rocky ruin sate scattered scene Scotland Scott sea-loch seemed seen shore side sight spot steep stone stood stream thee thought told town travelled trees Trossachs Tummel Tweed Tyndrum vale valley village walk waterfall whole wild William wind woman wood Wordsworth Yarrow
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Side 302 - Delicious is the Lay that sings The haunts of happy lovers, The path that leads them to the grove, The leafy grove that covers: And pity sanctifies the verse That paints, by strength of sorrow, The unconquerable strength of love; Bear witness, rueful Yarrow! But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation: Meek loveliness is round thee spread, A softness still and holy: The grace of forest charms decayed, And pastoral melancholy.
Side 238 - Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Side 237 - Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Side 178 - The immeasurable height Of woods decaying, never to be decayed, The stationary blasts of waterfalls, And in the narrow rent at every turn Winds thwarting winds, bewildered and forlorn, The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky, The rocks that muttered close upon our ears, Black drizzling crags that spake by the way-side As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream...
Side 238 - No Nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of Travellers in some shady haunt, Among Arabian sands: A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
Side 302 - Yarrow vale, Save where that pearly whiteness Is round the rising sun diffused, A tender hazy brightness; Mild dawn of promise ! that excludes All profitless dejection ; Though not unwilling here to admit A pensive recollection. , Where was it that the famous Flower Of Yarrow Vale lay bleeding ? His bed perchance was yon smooth mound On which the herd is feeding: And haply from this crystal pool, Now peaceful as the morning, The Water-wraith ascended thrice — And gave his doleful warning. Delicious...
Side 114 - And seemliness complete, that sways Thy courtesies, about thee plays ; With no restraint, but such as springs From quick and eager visitings Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach Of thy few words of English speech : A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife That gives thy gestures grace and life ! So have I, not unmoved in mind, Seen birds of tempest-loving kind — Thus beating up against the wind.
Side 311 - The Rock, like something starting from a sleep, Took up the lady's voice, and laughed again ; That ancient woman seated on Helm-crag Was ready with her cavern ; Hammar-scar, And the tall steep of Silver-how, sent forth A noise of laughter ; southern Loughrigg heard, And Fairfield answered with a mountain tone ; Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky Carried the lady's voice ; old Skiddaw blew His speaking-trumpet ; back out of the clouds Of Glaramara southward came the voice ; And Kirkstone tossed...
Side 115 - I be loth to stir? I feel this place was made for her; To give new pleasure like the past, Continued long as life shall last. Nor am I...
Side 307 - And clomb the winding stair that once Too timidly was mounted By the ' last minstrel,' (not the last !) Ere he his tale recounted. Flow on for ever, Yarrow stream ! Fulfil thy pensive duty, Well pleased that future bards should chant For simple hearts thy beauty ; To dream-light dear while yet unseen, Dear to the common sunshine, And dearer still, as now I feel, To memory's shadowy moonshine...