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" In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things. If this Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft... "
The Etonian - Pagina 288
1824
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The Wheat-sheaf; Or, Gleanings for the Wayside and Fireside ...

1853 - 416 pagina’s
...suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the joy, We see into the life of things. If this Be but a vain...Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beating of my heart, How oft in spirit have I turned to thec, 0 sylvan Wye ! — thou wanderer through...
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The Wheat-Sheaf: a Suggestive Reader. [A Collection of Extracts in Prose and ...

Elizabeth Nicholson - 1853 - 396 pagina’s
...suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the joy, We see into the life of things. If this Be but a vain...Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beating of my heart, How oft in spirit have I turned to thee, 0 sylvan Wye ! — thou wanderer through...
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Woodland Gleanings: Being an Account of British Forest-trees, Indigenous and ...

Woodland gleanings - 1853 - 287 pagina’s
...become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things. If this Be but a vain belief, yet, O ! how oft, In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight ; when the fretful stir Unprofitable,...
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A Collection of Familiar Quotations: With Complete Indices of Authors and ...

John Bartlett - 1856 - 358 pagina’s
...the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, Is lightened. The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy...
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The Wheat-sheaf

1857 - 416 pagina’s
...become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the joy, We see into the life of things. Ifthis Be but a vain belief, yet, oh ; how oft, In darkness...Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beating of my heart, How oft in spirit have I turned to thee, 0 sylvan Wye ! — thou wanderer through...
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Lectures on the British Poets, Volume 1

Henry Reed - 1857 - 408 pagina’s
...gladdened by a return of a memory of the emotion which some placid scene had inspired him with : — " Oh ! how oft, In darkness, and amid the many shapes...the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, — Hpw oft in spirit have I turn'd to thee, O sylvan Wye ! Thou wanderer through the woods, How often...
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The Works of Mrs. Hemans: With a Memoir of Her Life, Volume 1

Felicia Dorothea Browne Hemans, Mrs. Hemans - 1857
...pure and lofty regions—for the fresh green places of refuge which it has offered me in many an hour when • ' The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the...the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart;' and when I have found in your thoughts and images such relief as the vision of your ' Sylvan Wye,'...
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English Literature of the Nineteenth Century: On the Plan of the Author's ...

Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1857 - 785 pagina’s
...Of harmony and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.. If this Be hut a vain helicf, yet, oh ! how oft, In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight, when the fretful stir Uuprofitahle, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the heatings of my heart, How oft in spirit...
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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth ...

William Wordsworth - 1858 - 496 pagina’s
...become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the powei Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things. If this Be but a vain...the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings ol my heart, How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye ! Thou wand'rer through the woods....
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the poetical works of william wordsworth

WILLIAM WORDSWOTH - 1858
...with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power 01 joy, We see into the lite ot things. If this Be but a vain belief, yet, oh ! how oft, In darkness, and amid the many shapes Ot joyless daylight ; when the fretiul stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon...
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