Chapter X: is on Wordsworth (3)

O’er the wide earth, on mountain and on plain, iv 223

O’erweening Statesmen have full long relied iv 247

O Flower of all that springs from gentle blood, iv 235

Of mortal parents is the Hero born iv 214

O for a dirge! But why complain? vii 132

O, for a kindling touch from that pure flame, vi 110

O for the help of Angels to complete vi 297

O Friend! I know not which way I must look ii 345

Oft have I caught, upon a fitful breeze, vii 373

Oft have I seen, ere Time had ploughed my cheek, vii 163

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: ii 99

Oft is the medal faithful to its trust iv 77

Oft, through thy fair domains, illustrious Peer! v 20

O gentle Sleep! do they belong to thee, iv 42

O happy time of youthful lovers (thus iii 24

Oh Bounty without measure, while the Grace viii 308

Oh Life! without thy chequered scene vi 315

Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy! iii 35

Oh what a Wreck! how changed in mien and speech, viii 36

Oh! what’s the matter? what’s the matter? i 254

“O Lord, our Lord! how wondrously,” (quoth she) ii 240

O Moon! if e’er I joyed when thy soft light viii 235

O mountain Stream! the Shepherd and his Cot vi 245

Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee; ii 336

Once I could hail (howe’er serene the sky) vii 152

Once in a lonely hamlet I sojourned ii 285

Once more the Church is seized with sudden fear, vii 49

Once on the top of Tynwald’s formal mound vii 366

Once to the verge of yon steep barrier came viii 236

One might believe that natural miseries ii 431

One morning (raw it was and wet-- ii 270

One who was suffering tumult in his soul vi 187

On his morning rounds the Master iii 48

O Nightingale! thou surely art iv 67

On, loitering Muse--the swift Stream chides us--on! vi 242

“On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life,” v 23

On Nature’s invitation do I come, ii 118

O now that the genius of Bewick were mine, ii 60

On to Iona!--What can she afford vii 379

Open your gates, ye everlasting Piles! vii 105

O there is blessing in this gentle breeze, iii 132

O thou who movest onward with a mind iv 231

O thou! whose fancies from afar are brought; ii 351

Our bodily life, some plead, that life the shrine, viii 109

Our walk was far among the ancient trees: ii 167

Outstretching flame-ward his upbraided hand vii 62

Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, ii 301

Part fenced by man, part by a rugged steep vii 286

Pastor and Patriot!--at whose bidding rise vii 349

Patriots informed with Apostolic light vii 85

Pause, courteous Spirit!--Balbi supplicates iv 237

Pause, Traveller! whosoe’er thou be vi 173

Peaceful our valley, fair and green; viii 259

Pelion and Ossa flourish side by side, ii 238

“People! your chains are severing link by link;” vii 290

Perhaps some needful service of the State iv 230

Pleasures newly found are sweet ii 303

Portentous change when History can appear, viii 130

Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay iv 272

Praised be the Rivers, from their mountain springs vii 45

Prejudged by foes determined not to spare, vii 71

Presentiments! they judge not right vii 266

Prompt transformation works the novel Lore; vii 17

Proud were ye, Mountains, when, in times of old, viii 167

Pure element of waters! wheresoe’er vi 184

Queen of the Stars!--so gentle, so benign, viii 15

Ranging the heights of Scawfell or Black-Comb, vii 358

Rapt above earth by power of one fair face, viii 81

Realms quake by turns: proud Arbitress of grace, vii 32

Record we too, with just and faithful pen, vii 39

Redoubted King, of courage leonine, vii 31

Reluctant call it was; the rite delayed; vii 323

“Rest, rest, perturbèd Earth!” vi 95

Return, Content! for fondly I pursued, vi 255

Rid of a vexing and a heavy load, viii 265

Rise!--they _have_ risen: of brave Aneurin ask vii 11

Rotha, my Spiritual Child! this head was grey vii 171

Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen ii 213

Sacred Religion! “mother of form and fear,” vi 249

Sad thoughts, avaunt!--partake we their blithe cheer vi 253

Said red-ribboned Evans: viii 302

Said Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud, viii 304

Say, what is Honour?--’Tis the finest sense iv 225

Say, ye far-travelled clouds, far-seeing hills-- vii 287

Scattering, like birds escaped the fowler’s net, vii 64

Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, vii 163

Screams round the Arch-druid’s brow the seamew--white vii 6

Seek who will delight in fable, viii 172

See the Condemned alone within his cell, viii 110

See what gay wild flowers deck this earth-built Cot, vii 296

See, where his difficult way that Old Man wins, viii 83

Serene, and fitted to embrace, vi 117

Serving no haughty Muse, my hands have here, viii 102

Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald, ii 204

Shade of Caractacus, if spirits love, viii 309

Shall he who gives his days to low pursuits viii 257

Shame on this faithless heart! that could allow vi 214

She dwelt among the untrodden ways ii 79

She had a tall man’s height or more; ii 278

She was a Phantom of delight iii 2

She wept.--Life’s purple tide began to flow viii 209

Shout, for a mighty Victory is won! ii 436

Show me the noblest Youth of present time, vii 181

Shun not this rite, neglected, yea abhorred, vii 96

Since risen from ocean, ocean to defy, vii 369

Six changeful years have vanished since I first iii 247

Six months to six years added he remained, viii 39

Six thousand veterans practised in war’s game, ii 435

Small service is true service while it lasts, viii 8

Smile of the Moon!--for so I name vi 163

So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive, viii 164

Soft as a cloud is yon blue Ridge--the Mere vii 405

Sole listener, Duddon! to the breeze that played vi 234

Son of my buried Son, while thus thy hand, viii 305

Soon did the Almighty Giver of all rest iv 267

Spade! with which Wilkinson hath tilled his lands, iv 3

Stay, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs iv 281

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, viii 38

Stay near me--do not take thy flight! ii 283

Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! iii 38

Strange fits of passion have I known: ii 78

Stranger! this hillock of mis-shapen stones ii 63

Stretched on the dying Mother’s lap, lies dead vii 387

Such age how beautiful! O Lady bright, vii 172

Such fruitless questions may not long beguile vi 246

Surprised by joy--impatient as the Wind vi 72

Sweet Flower, belike one day to have iii 51

Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower ii 390

“Sweet is the holiness of Youth”--so felt vii 59

Sweet was the walk along the narrow lane, viii 215

Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel! iv 275

Sylph was it? or a Bird more bright vii 319

Take, cradled Nursling of the mountain, take vi 233

Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense, vii 106

Tell me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold, vii 125

Tenderly do we feel by Nature’s law, viii 104

Thanks for the lessons of this Spot--fit school vii 377

That happy gleam of vernal eyes, vii 202

That heresies should strike (if truth be scanned vii 10

That is work of waste and ruin-- ii 298

That way look, my Infant, lo! iii 16

The Baptist might have been ordained to cry, viii 80

The Bard--whose soul is meek as dawning day, vi 112

The captive Bird was gone;--to cliff or moor vii 371

The cattle crowding round this beverage clear vii 348

The Cock is crowing, ii 293

The confidence of Youth our only Art, viii 273

The Crescent-moon, the Star of Love, viii 127

The Danish Conqueror, on his royal chair, vi 130

The days are cold, the nights are long, iii 74

The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; ii 143

The doubt to which a wavering hope had clung viii 289

The embowering rose, the acacia, and the pine, iv 74

The encircling ground, in native turf arrayed, vii 104

The fairest, brightest, hues of ether fade; vi 66

The feudal Keep, the bastions of Cohorn, vii 360

The fields which with covetous spirit we sold, iii 12

The floods are roused, and will not soon be weary; vii 388

The forest huge of ancient Caledon vii 304

The formal World relaxes her cold chain, viii 112

The gallant Youth, who may have gained, vii 281

The gentlest Poet, with free thoughts endowed, viii 141

The gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains ii 378

The glory of evening was spread through the west; viii 217

The God of Love--_ah, benedicite!_ ii 250

The imperial Consort of the Fairy-king vi 189

The imperial Stature, the colossal stride, vii 166

The Kirk of Ulpha to the pilgrim’s eye vi 260

The Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor ii 129

The Lake is thine, viii 263

The Land we from our fathers had in trust, iv 215

The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill, vii 407

The leaves were fading when to Esthwaite’s banks iii 222

The linnet’s warble, sinking towards a close, vii 403

The little hedgerow birds, i 307

The lovely Nun (submissive, but more meek vii 52

The Lovers took within this ancient grove vii 306

The martial courage of a day is vain, iv 217

The massy Ways, carried across these heights vii 154

The Minstrels played their Christmas tune vi 227

The most alluring clouds that mount the sky, viii 128

The old inventive Poets, had they seen, vi 251

_The oppression of the tumult--wrath and scorn--_ vii 13

The order’d troops viii 234

The peace which others seek they find; iii 11

The pensive Sceptic of the lonely vale v 327

The pibroch’s note, discountenanced or mute; vii 290

The post-boy drove with fierce career, ii 273

The power of Armies is a visible thing, iv 254

The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed iii 382

The rains at length have ceas’d, the winds are still’d, viii 233

There are no colours in the fairest sky vii 77

There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear ii 431

There is a change--and I am poor; iv 17

There is a Flower, the lesser Celandine, iii 21

There is a little unpretending Rill iv 53

There is an Eminence,--of these our hills ii 162

_There is a pleasure in poetic pains_ vii 166

There is a shapeless crowd of unhewn stones viii 223

There is a Thorn--it looks so old, i 242

There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, ii 370

There never breathed a man who, when his life iv 232

“There!” said a Stripling, pointing with meet pride vii 384

There’s George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore, ii 207

There’s more in words than I can teach: vii 321

There’s not a nook within this solemn Pass, vii 289

There’s something in a flying horse, ii 3

There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs ii 57

There was a roaring in the wind all night; ii 314

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, viii 190

The Roman Consul doomed his sons to die, viii 105

The Sabbath bells renew the inviting peal; vii 96

The saintly Youth has ceased to rule, discrowned vii 61

The Scottish Broom on Bird-nest brae viii 270

These times strike monied worldlings with dismay: ii 432

These Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live ii 184

These vales were saddened with no common gloom viii 275

The Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo! iii 58

The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said, vi 68

The sky is overcast i 227

The snow-tracks of my friends I see, viii 219

The soaring lark is blest as proud vii 214

The Spirit of Antiquity--enshrined vi 290

The stars are mansions built by Nature’s hand, vi 210

The star which comes at close of day to shine, viii 307

The struggling Rill insensibly is grown vi 239

The sun has long been set, ii 327

The sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest; vii 338

The Sun, that seemed so mildly to retire, vii 337

The sylvan slopes with corn-clad fields vi 201

The tears of man in various measure gush vii 60

The Troop will be impatient; let us hie i 114

The turbaned Race are poured in thickening swarms vii 31

The unremitting voice of nightly streams, viii 187

The valley rings with mirth and joy; ii 138

The vestal priestess of a sisterhood who knows viii 325

The Vested Priest before the Altar stands; vii 94

The Virgin Mountain, wearing like a Queen vii 70

The Voice of song from distant lands shall call ii 338

The wind is now thy organist;--a clank vii 288

The woman-hearted Confessor prepares vii 28

The world forsaken, all its busy cares, viii 73

The world is too much with us; late and soon, iv 39

The worship of this Sabbath morn, viii 326

They called Thee MERRY ENGLAND, in old time; vii 343

They call it Love lies bleeding! rather say, viii 150

They dreamt not of a perishable home vii 107

The Young-ones gathered in from hill and dale, vii 92

They seek, are sought; to daily battle led, iv 253

They--who have seen the noble Roman’s scorn, viii 62

This Height a ministering Angel might select: iv 271

“This Land of Rainbows spanning glens whose walls,” vii 299

This Lawn, a carpet all alive vii 228

This Spot--at once unfolding sight so fair, viii 103

Those breathing Tokens of your kind regard, vii 217

Those had given earliest notice, as the lark vii 46

Those old credulities, to nature dear, viii 60

Those silver clouds collected round the sun vi 199

Those words were uttered as in pensive mood iv 37

Though I beheld at first with blank surprise viii 115

Though joy attend Thee orient at the birth vii 299

Though many suns have risen and set vii 148

Though narrow be that old Man’s cares, and near, iv 69

Tho’ searching damps and many an envious flaw vi 343

Though the bold wings of Poesy affect viii 154

Though the torrents from their fountains ii 182

Though to give timely warning and deter viii 109

“Thou look’st upon me, and dost fondly think,” vii 347

Thou sacred Pile! whose turrets rise vi 333

Threats come which no submission may assuage, vii 52

Three years she grew in sun and shower, ii 81

Throned in the Sun’s descending Car viii 300

Through Cumbrian wilds, in many a mountain cove, viii 272

Through shattered galleries, ’mid roofless halls, vii 131

Thus all things lead to Charity, secured vii 102

Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving much iii 153

Thus is the storm abated by the craft vii 48

Thy functions are ethereal, vii 204

’Tis eight o’clock,--a clear March night, i 283

’Tis gone--with old belief and dream vii 192

’Tis He whose yester-evening’s high disdain viii 94

’Tis not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined, ii 147

’Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold vi 286

’Tis said, that some have died for love: ii 178

’Tis said that to the brow of yon fair hill vii 230

’Tis spent--this burning day of June! iii 76

To a good Man of most dear memory viii 18

To appease the Gods; or public thanks to yield; vi 363

To barren heath, bleak moor, and quaking fen, vi 16

“To every Form of being is assigned,” v 353

To kneeling Worshippers no earthly floor vii 97

Too frail to keep the lofty vow ii 383

To public notice, with reluctance strong, vi 40

Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men! ii 339

Tradition, be thou mute! Oblivion, throw vii 293

Tranquillity! the sovereign aim wert thou vii 387

Troubled long with warring notions vi 175

True is it that Ambrosio Salinero iv 233

’Twas summer, and the sun had mounted high: v 26

Two Voices are there; one is of the sea, iv 61

Under the shadow of a stately Pile, viii 78

Ungrateful Country, if thou e’er forget vii 81

Unless to Peter’s Chair the viewless wind vii 34

Unquiet Childhood here by special grace vii 170

Untouched through all severity of cold; vii 231

“Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away!” ii 181

Up to the throne of God is borne vii 408

Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books; i 274

Up with me! up with me into the clouds! iii 42

Urged by Ambition, who with subtlest skill vii 26

Uttered by whom, or how inspired--designed vi 306

Vallombrosa! I longed in thy shadiest wood vi 357

“Vallombrosa--I longed in thy shadiest wood” viii 76

Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent, ii 434

“Wait, prithee, wait!” this answer Lesbia threw viii 32

Wanderer! that stoop’st so low, and com’st so near viii 13

Wansfell! this Household has a favoured lot, viii 153

Ward of the Law!--dread Shadow of a King! vi 209

Was it to disenchant, and to undo, vi 295

Was the aim frustrated by force or guile, vi 184

Watch, and be firm! for, soul-subduing vice, vii 10

“Weak is the will of Man, his judgment blind;” vi 67

We can endure that He should waste our lands, iv 246

Weep not, belovèd Friends! nor let the air iv 230

We gaze--nor grieve to think that we must die, viii 306

We had a female Passenger who came ii 342

_We_ have not passed into a doleful City, vii 383

Well have yon Railway Labourers to THIS ground viii 176

Well may’st thou halt--and gaze with brightening eye! iv 34

Well sang the Bard who called the grave, in strains vii 295

Well worthy to be magnified are they vii 84

Were there, below, a spot of holy ground i 37

Were there, below, a spot of holy ground, i 310

We saw, but surely, in the motley crowd, vii 376

We talked with open heart, and tongue ii 91

We walked along, while bright and red ii 89

What aim had they, the Pair of Monks, in size viii 74

What aspect bore the Man who roved or fled, vi 237

What awful pérspective! while from our sight vii 106

“What beast in wilderness or cultured field” vii 47

What beast of chase hath broken from the cover? vi 360

What crowd is this? what have we here! we must not
pass it by iv 22

What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine viii 177

What He--who, mid the kindred throng vi 29

What if our numbers barely could defy viii 87

“What is good for a bootless bene?” iv 205

“What know we of the Blest above” vi 315

What lovelier home could gentle Fancy choose? vi 294

What mischief cleaves to unsubdued regret, vii 340

What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay, iv 276

What sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are heard iii 270

What strong allurement draws, what spirit guides, viii 92

What though the Accused, upon his own appeal vii 223

What though the Italian pencil wrought not here, vi 321

What way does the Wind come? What way does he go? iv 50

“_What, you are stepping westward?_”--“_Yea._” ii 396

When Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant cry, vii 79

Whence that low voice?--A whisper from the heart, vi 252

When Contemplation, like the night-calm felt iii 201

When, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn iv 244

When first descending from the moorlands, viii 27

When haughty expectations prostrate lie, vi 192

When here with Carthage Rome to conflict came, viii 66

When human touch (as monkish books attest), viii 34

When I have borne in memory what has tamed ii 348

When in the antique age of bow and spear vii 115

When, looking on the present face of things, ii 433

When Love was born of heavenly line, viii 216

When Philoctetes in the Lemnian isle vii 167

When Ruth was left half desolate, ii 104

When Severn’s sweeping flood had overthrown, viii 314

When the soft hand of sleep had closed the latch vi 97

When thy great soul was freed from mortal chains, vii 25

When, to the attractions of the busy world, iii 66

When years of wedded life were as a day vi 43

Where are they now, those wanton Boys? ii 281

Where art thou, my beloved Son, iii 7

Where be the noisy followers of the game vi 380

Where be the temples which, in Britain’s Isle, vi 45

Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends, vi 217

Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go? iv 41

Where lies the truth? has Man, in wisdom’s creed, viii 182

Where long and deeply hath been fixed the root vii 43

Where towers are crushed, and unforbidden weeds vii 137

Where will they stop, those breathing Powers, vii 314

While Anna’s peers and early playmates tread, vii 169

While beams of orient light shoot wide and high, viii 156

While flowing rivers yield a blameless sport, vi 190

While from the purpling east departs vii 146

While Merlin paced the Cornish sands, vii 252

While not a leaf seems faded; while the fields, vi 65

While poring Antiquarians search the ground, viii 33

While the Poor gather round, till the end of time vii 307

While thus from theme to theme the Historian passed, v 283

“Who but hails the sight with pleasure” vi 156

Who but is pleased to watch the moon on high, viii 184

Who comes--with rapture greeted, and caress’d vii 75

Who fancied what a pretty sight ii 374

Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he iv 8

Who ponders National events shall find, viii 131

Who rashly strove thy Image to portray, viii 29

Who rises on the banks of Seine, vi 104

Who swerves from innocence, who makes divorce vi 260

Who weeps for strangers? Many wept, viii 267

Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant, viii 12

Why cast ye back upon the Gallic shore, vi 378

“Why, Minstrel, these untuneful murmurings--” vii 161

Why should the Enthusiast, journeying through this Isle, vii 343

Why should we weep or mourn, Angelic boy, viii 181

Why sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled, vii 108

Why stand we gazing on the sparkling Brine, vii 361

“Why, William, on that old grey stone,” i 272

Wild Redbreast! hadst thou at Jemima’s lip vii 176

Wisdom and Spirit of the universe! ii 66

With copious eulogy in prose or rhyme vii 270

With each recurrence of this glorious morn vi 194

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the sky, iv 38

Within her gilded cage confined, vii 142

Within our happy Castle there dwelt One ii 306

Within the mind strong fancies work, vi 158

With little here to do or see ii 358

“With sacrifice before the rising morn” vi 2

With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh, iv 40

Witness thou, viii 234

Woe to the Crown that doth the Cowl obey! vii 27

“Woe to you, Prelates! rioting in ease” vii 49

Woman! the Power who left his throne on high, vii 95

Wouldst thou be gathered to Christ’s chosen flock, viii 303

Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taken flight, viii 151

Would that our scrupulous Sires had dared to leave vii 99

Ye Apennines! with all your fertile vales, viii 45

Ye brood of conscience--Spectres! that frequent, viii 107

Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Urn, iv 78

Ye sacred Nurseries of blooming Youth! vi 213

Ye shadowy Beings, that have rights and claims vii 377

Yes! hope may with my strong desire keep pace, iii 381

Yes, if the intensities of hope and fear vii 88

Yes, it was the mountain Echo, iv 25

Yes! thou art fair, yet be not moved, viii 176

Yes, though He well may tremble at the sound, viii 111

Ye Storms, resound the praises of your King! vi 109

Yet are they here the same unbroken knot iv 65

Yet many a Novice of the cloistral shade, vii 53

Yet more,--round many a Convent’s blazing fire vii 51

Ye, too, must fly before a chasing hand, vii 54

Ye torrents, foaming down the rocky steeps, viii 161

Ye Trees! whose slender roots entwine, viii 82

Yet Truth is keenly sought for, and the wind vii 76

Yet, yet, Biscayans! we must meet our Foes iv 242

Ye vales and hills whose beauty hither drew, viii 157

You call it, “Love lies bleeding,”--so you may, viii 149

You have heard “a Spanish Lady” vii 232

YOUNG ENGLAND--what is then become of Old, viii 180

You’re here for one long vernal day; viii 284

END OF VOL. VIII

_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.