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William Wordsworth

Wordsworth

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William Wordsworth is chiefly remembered as one of the ‘Lake Poets’. Yet he was also one of the founders of English Romanticism, a writer whose early revolutionary fervor imbued his verse and his ideals.

Much of Wordsworth’s work was inspired by nature, but to a style rich in lyrical imagery he brought a deep interest in liberal humanitarianism and a profound concern for the lives, habits and speech of ordinary people, especially country people.

This collection includes: ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’ (‘Daffodils’), ‘Ode. Intimations of Immortality’, ‘Character of the Happy Warrior’, ‘The Solitary Reaper’, ‘To a Sky-Lark’, ‘Tintern Abbey’, and extracts from ‘The Prelude’.
Este livro está indisponível
59 páginas impressas
Detentor dos direitos autorais
Michael O'Mara Books
Publicação original
2016
Ano da publicação
2016

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Impressões

  • Aidee Venturacompartilhou uma impressãohá 10 meses
    👍Vale a leitura
    🔮Segredos Obscuros
    🌴Livro de Praia
    🐼Fofinho

    Postales en forma de poema, me gustó mucho como evoca sentimientos hablando de paisajes y la naturaleza.

Citações

  • Aidee Venturafez uma citaçãohá 10 meses
    The sun has long been set,
    The stars are out by twos and threes,
    The little birds are piping yet
    Among the bushes and the trees;
    There’s a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
    And a far-off wind that rushes,
    And a sound of water that gushes,
    And the cuckoo’s sovereign cry
    Fills all the hollow of the sky.
    Who would go ‘parading’
    In London, ‘and masquerading’,
    On such a night of June
    With that beautiful soft half-moon,
    And all these innocent blisses?
    On such a night as this is!
  • Aidee Venturafez uma citaçãohá 10 meses
    Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind –
    But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
    Even for the least division of an hour,
    Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
    To my most grievous loss? –That thought’s return
  • Aidee Venturafez uma citaçãohá 10 meses
    For oft, when on my couch I lie
    In vacant or in pensive mood,
    They flash upon that inward eye
    Which is the bliss of solitude;
    And then my heart with pleasure fills
    And dances with the daffodils
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