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" No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea... "
Papers of the Manchester Literary Club - Página 257
por Manchester Literary Club - 1880
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Poems, in Two Volumes, Volumen1

William Wordsworth - 1807 - 170 páginas
...Now, while the Birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young Lambs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely...steep, No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me froTn the fields of sleep, 14*...
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Poems in 2 Vols., Reprinted Original Ed. of 1807 Ed. with Note on ..., Volumen2

William Wordsworth - 1807
...Now, while the Birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young Lambs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief : A timely...steep, No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And...
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Poems, Volumen2

William Wordsworth - 1815
...Now, while the Birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young Lambs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief : A timely...steep, — No more shall grief of mine the season wrong : I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And...
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Poems by William Wordsworth: Including Lyrical Ballads, and the ..., Volumen2

William Wordsworth, Dorothy Wordsworth - 1815
...Now, while the Birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young Lumbs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely...steep, — No more shall grief of mine the season wrong : I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And...
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Blackwood's Magazine, Volumen38

1835
...tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought nf grief : A timely utterance gave that thought refin And I again am strong : The cataracts blow their trumpets from the sterp, No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the echoes through the mountain throng,...
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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volumen4

William Wordsworth - 1827
...Now, while the Birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young Lambs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely...steep, No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And...
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The British poets of the nineteenth century, including the select works of ...

British poets - 1828
...the Bird« thus «ing a joj ou« «ong. And while the young Lamb« bound A« to the tabor'« sound. To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely...utterance gave that thought relief. And I again am «trong. The Cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep, — No more shall grief of mine the season...
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Calcutta Magazine and Monthly Register, Volúmenes25-28

1832
...But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. MOUNTAIN MUSIC. The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep, No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of sleep. THB...
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Sacred Poetry: Consisting of Selections from the Works of the Most Admired ...

Henry Stebbing - 1832 - 402 páginas
...while the young lambs bound, As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief, But timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again...steep, No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to mo from the fields of sleep,, And...
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Sacred poetry: consisting of selections from the works of the most admired ...

Henry Stebbing - 1832 - 496 páginas
...while the young lamhs hound, As to the tahor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief, But timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong. The cataracts hlow their trumpets from the steep, No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the echoes...
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