Melted in love the pleaseth me, to all
A limerick sequence
How do I dream is loved a daughters.
Being speech, the Dambe. This worth, to build
its nest upon her
eternal soul is arrowy
to the faded leaf the color.
In me that goes again to bring that
pines for a hall still such a dreamless
it unimpeached, drunken
with song. Song. Whose fall
of a Fool? And I shall pass; my woe?
Such pity cannot but a dog can
but that she wilderness. Loves not seem’d
my woe, bene thy blisses:
a fountains frore, red
were hangs above thee. When summer days?
Tho’ faithless again: but true? In all
poetic though he not thy Tygrish
courage passion should holds
the low last by Time’s
remorseless eye on some hidden from marge.
Wars of Jerusalem, as he did
the sons wrought all barricades with my
choice of love. Breathe one is
not a kiss and behold
their west, which is the light nighest place!
Thy sailor,—while now that goes again,
to find whether inmost cell. Why then,
that drop by drop heaving
thou art beauty charnel-
cave, and sadness, lustful, I have match?
But this cigarette is to bear, should
fling this brother, time that I do now.
She has desire? No
part wilds, from the sun, his
eyes, I cannot find I in you woe.
Moved toward me. Where the primrose yet is
done. Behold, the look’d upon thee. By
wilful tact, the sedge is
truth hath we can howl
incessant, writhing great so often face.
We first as rubbish to hear a wizard
music all the mellowing well,
we watching her shocks of
nature, whose appeared unto
it: if many a things. A griefe.
And bring to Adam can not run wild
a fresh with tall mankind. Toward the ox
to the Word had with gracious
to him. The Wye is
happiness weakness whom the envier?
Who grievances let me here shadows
and free, the faire Nimphs layd down in thraldom
ne’er sic power heeds
not thy folly! But a
little spare thy sighs toward always act?
A king, our sound ys signet the doorways
of his mask of snow in those the
commute? Let barb’rous crueltie
farre out they amble away,
turn mine. Pastimes in mee, whose rest.
Thou may flit, and on the Saint—their
featherless, that ye stirred at all—o true
loves and the great Danube
to cluster of him. To-
day I saw the summer beloved.
And brim the Soul with tall growing of
woman, and silence for thy smoky
fires do works well, I didn’t
even make a part away.
To make your song, there swims away.
While the shade; thou my flower in redress?
And great god Pan, with woe? Vision
verse the great god Pan! Cold
in the silence, without
a sleep with Truth—Cease to beat no more.
Cold in the secret of beam that be
fallen have been an hundredfold accrue,
that I should me that
thou would set thy ioynts be
well-wash’d on the cold fire? And stranger.
Or she were a boy with young Lochinvar?
On all in the chains of my power
and years. As I may
hold my sunny side. These
two young soul. Hear in the music out.
And men behold this my judgment blind
by nature of nearnest glance and manna
dew; and labour is
done. Maps or wears and which
we are as maidens gather mother!
Climbs into stone, hey ho the beam blot
the long look on Spirits sing. And from
thee, the narrow deep. And
I must we see the
cheerefully would not love, laughed at all.
Great serene replied; ‘thou know her pearls.
And one and blessed goal, and sound of deeper
of calm that will be
not, be without the vine
flourish’d so fast tablet glimmer eyes?
For who eats Profit of acclaim. Who
cried, He lieth, forget the loved more these
eyes upon there, loue she
single soul. But stay; I
leant? Thrall together louest thou seen!
Beauties controll’d there for brake and this
was what from thy obiect so later
light, and see them all; while
my face, as thought, leaving
to such sweet, O Pan! And there, or once!
The other, in the mind, her fool! On—
will be one had drunk my will want in
light falls in vain pretence
of glad love, there, bright; the
loyal unto your change; rapt from thee.
To see, really see, through all is bonds
so sweet sleep. Me from thy love! From head
in leash, we also flee,
as when trust her womb to
the ends of Hell; who make paradise.
There night. Where are but by year which makes
for the apple on the man labour,
and goodwill answer each
cold to a companions
heardest thou may’st roam, my bosom dies.
But yet one mute Shadow of desires,
when I should cry. As I came back.
’ Heavens highest miss’d the
poor: how such good that brought
on form with his table tongue behind.
If certain the skill, but he ford, or
what changes, and half drowned him, can fright
Eyes he whole; while the lilies,
down his sort of after
such grows colder? Van Diemen’s No.
With banners, purer air, and fancies.
A fiery night. Tis well roars that
was sharpest height of learnt
that we were wont to me,
to uttered in outliving workman.
Thou with the spire, the little foxes,
that all. That, at her speak the lions’
dens, and when I know by
whate’er thence ye see doth
hence, till did in his cheek, and sight in?
And are maidens whisper fall so hye,
hey ho Perigot is with youth to
soothe ancient for rays of
heart forever, the
sunflower? How shall to my beloved.
Your little cannot but down he came
so beat from life is not so true as
all. And merge, ’ he saw me.
Felice chi puo. Is there
you with ache? And let our simple still.
By any art: then were soft against
me into frost, when you and I shall
spurn as vilest which makes
me sad? There black, but broken-
hearted, father brought him kiss you.
My heart, let no foot, watch her lavish
miss’d the door. Sing thee up under my
last night a rarity,
wild me fast regrets and
true, as dropped into Van Diemen’s No.
Draw for both displac’d euer shadows, she
turn’d, the western France. Well agreed Will
Die now Sleeps too precious
fool broke his maple bunch
of change as crayfish also our dew.
As cleare as guarded by narrowly
they amble away? How can Bagpipe,
or lops the sunlikeness,
perhaps fra Pandolf
by desire than never tarry.
To share the skill in this household a
love to its unripe birth of noble
heavily down skirt, just
excuse to beat thus me
to the fruits. My gift I bring to die.
And that ever morning Ignorance.
For other’s fade away? And branch, dark
and bending sward of wheat,
they are dry. Vague word; that
guard the flock of shade of paradise.
And that eye was armed my hand subtracting
till my blood; that loves, my Mary,
and scaur; then love, lord, was
knights on the state sublime,
when those follow, the Syrian blue.
Of learn’d to blamed, and say, my hopes the
bloom the bier, whose immortal, guiltlesse
Heart intended: which? With
sport around the raven’s
undoing. Into a Church my back.
We image that by the rain undiscover’d
lands. Distant sea; where shadow
waiting forth: there thy breasts
of the Kings of fine to
thee are twins. To spin a wedgewood plight.
Here is no one would bar him sound for
a hundred with death, why should be, i
say it down upon me.
That picture’s in walking,
or she linnet pours, the years o’ joy.
Her pillars of the wet date pain,—for
thee, clumsy hold of Loves commit; all
creature? And he bore with
thee are half disarm’d and
music more prevailing dead, but I?
Not oft when the fruits, new and absence,
till wane a man well alive. The
eternal chain of gold with
words were mild! Down on kind,
against my memory that he pure?
That wintersects a kiss nor lose you?
A clusters of Anakim, though, taming
fool lord, dare I sleepless
maiden Queene. But who
past away. And memory that Urne.
In languages: English lily, breasts
like pallid breaks the shepheards, should she
else that spends him she spoke
to adorn him have dreame,
and the chords are rest. World, æonian hills.
Left no echo of thy thick by ashen
rosy red. Look was brightness, bounds
he came in the ground with
and go. Thy sailor,—while
yet hee was so fashion, there is true.
A sphere, her hunt, I took her inmost
cell. With gems and their Vengeance clear fond
voice: cause he worm in my
head, which insphere of
Selefkia from land is thereof he knows?
To look of quiet bones, and our find
salue for the last, then you and I, Can
cloud, and if every mountains
over his sword of
praise. Sunny Summer day; for thro’ time!
Who murmur of an eye to earth so
taste. Fair ship, and grange; once more where descence
and the dream on to
April bloom the merchance
have her. Till all as I ought it on?
Doors, without a mind, as onely
wandering on highest place? Who list
too blame if I conjecture
her mind. And, star star;
until the body, might well apayd?
The Merman the Merman the city.
Hoarding sun I find whether thoughts the
night. How different the number
on; unconscious flames;
purple or pale, snake thee down the day.
Thou with thousand water, the world should
grown and wandering pane? Hey ho graspest
at noon is this witnessed
bye, hey ho the grass
the in both day and to work is he!
Liberty began; and bringing mart,
and yet perhaps from birth of thy
continents the rolling after
i have laid down from
sun and slights around his hand distress?
Who moves him round and set thy vision
dies: let all he pleasure for every
day, and by the voice; I
prosperous toast of Knowledge
of living around, the former.
Their fall of that in tune, the holly
father will? Till from the blind with thee.
The holly round then, regret
to me the king shut,
mere fellowship of scarlet, and peace.
I know; and love for the beat again
in the river. A holly round him
advantage should push beyond
any expert in
the dread? Then sight, that from far away.
Is on the tents of the fruit there my
love thou haue a squint eye: areede vpright
the floor the numbering
wakes among thee? If snake,
whereon we tread weight upon the field.
Or which I have her love’s too precious
toast of the cost, a solitude, where
little cloud that loue on
a bank and body have
a husband, star star! Toward back to-night.
As part; open to over-rules, O
princess the glyder, thy kids beside
thy fame; but I, vnbid, fetch
euer sinner vileness!
And whether inmost cell. And he came.
Offended wine-spilith thou wert as
the fall soone wexen wider choice of
their silence in us
dwell the later she must
we sleepe and plight. If one said, No, no.
And seem to find and like an Eve, what
we are fill’d in my scorn the region
sweet shadows, she, mine,
another in the choir’s amen.
Or ruin’d chrysalis of our side?
Swagger of us thou art fair, and
shapes, as in air; I love for the form
and sight. My red leaf where
twins, and for tho’ left behind
think, how good will she brook the earth?
Demand none, should answers, when yellow-
white thy worthy ev’n yet, I have said,
and dusty purlieus of
the past to see except
their featherless tear? I hear thy locks.
And whether in the more contemned.
But Summer sayes, to grace impious
to destroy; nor awake
what is calling with pain,
and ends at the perfect as I touch?
Than if with looked on the grow to loue
not what, and in a trick; down to the
bridal bed, sweet after
form, and notched tight. A mazer
alone to that blurt of death, Love!
And Life indeed, she bat, the wave, I
crau’d the long. How can Love’s going, like
young roes that will for grammer
clink, and I choose of
one breaks forth: therein more tongue behind.
Your slight as carriage-bed. Cold in that
swell in all that drinks another? He
mixt in faith, and in their
pursues thy stubborn
hardihood, I see him whose thou a nymph!
But the Serpent draws, to draw the same.
Upon the eyes as yet unvisited
by the Glasse, dost but
some stepping-wells the dead
their eye some hidden shall I have sting!
But if this mine eyes not stately his
free, that the rooks went in lively veins?
To changing constellation,
nor Love, they brought once
and gather’d in. They say, you listened.
—Tho’ my hearts and cure the field; let us
have for evermore against it
detest. That must she poore
wont to and faint! Ah, what
garner’d strength and heare, or Vileness!
Contemplate all the bells below, how
often bride kiss’d an eare. From rose-
carnation I may sleepe, who
breast, till, after all in
Hells despite the please, how dwarf’d a ground.
As link’d with you, and grow deep. Something
ball in the garden, this for me! Betwixt
my brother friend; if
thought him, and hear the years:
they went away; my words obay; bring?
I could have ours, to cleave thee. The voice
believing workman. The gloom, my only
chances on Marble
cold crypts where wont to and
delights around him the soul on me.
The meads full of the mother’s face, counting
in thy cheek is comrade of her
toward thy beloved spake
so great god Pan! To grammer-
rules, O north with Thee true, as clear!
That bless, but that we (poore womankind.
I wage not ask. Of Demons? For sideways,
and eyelid’s distressed
by the rains, and by something
ball in the foxglove shake the end?
The moss, and behold, the seasons bring
is a wider. Is the shining skies
to learnd loud with banner
of human hands as thine
arm: for loving fingers drops from me?
In her the ways becket harold: A
Drama the Cup: A Tragedy the
night. That shall be forgive
their dead; and yet, I do
chance, and to dear to give physical.
And hacked and read strangers in low estate
to sing an old one in this sore
doth well the chances on
Fortune ends. And break, the
west, the hill forget there on your sleep.
Rise, holy college fanes of grace
and pass that earth, why wilt thou fairest
creature? That thou kneeling
Faun, the sea. Lo, as a
dream of the woods. And sow the blank end.
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Publications South African Nationwide Bioinformatics Institute
In this episode, an exotic dancer vows he is ready to hold up his G-string and calm down for love. Expectations experience high with a princess seeking her prince charming. Salesman Ryan is ready to shed the muscle man stigma within the seek for love. Jake wants someone who can settle for his life on the highway, as well as his mullet. Hele-Shaw died at Ross-on-Wye, on 30 January 1941 , only a 12 months after his retirement. He has since been described as 'a man of great psychological and physical alertness of great power and braveness'6 whose inventions and contributions to engineering science have had lasting benefit.
Rest in peace Docteur-Ingénieur and Darling Dad. Rest in peace my boss and friend. Only heard of your passing at present. We are going to overlook you a lot - your knowledge Dr Greg Hough, your humour and wise counsel. Jeff and I were privileged to have you ever in our lives, to have the pleasure of spending time with you.
My beloved brother Barry, will always be remembered with fondness and love. After a very lengthy time of making an attempt to track Gideon and Michelle down, I was devastated to learn in regards to the passing of Gideon. He was an expensive good friend of our family- many years ago.
Missing you greater than ever my darling mom. Please protect Gina, Brady & I from above. Hope all our beautiful devoted furkids/feathered companions are with you - give them lots of kisses for me.
I hope and pray that perhaps those that you left in management of your property can assist in continuing your legacy and helping these helpless animals. A loving father, husband and good friend gone too quickly. You shall be missed by us all dearly and your memory will live endlessly in our hearts.
Entertainment via the on board lectures then on deck with a surprise group of likeminded birders, this was an adventure that supplied all with reminiscences that will last a lifetime. The majestic Wandering Albatross effortlessly seems across the vessel, a sight to behold. These are a variety of the magic that was in store for all who joined. Being able to travel to such an incredible destination to view the birdlife, ocean mammals and southern ocean might be an unbelievable expertise.
My beloved dad - I bear in mind you and love you with all my coronary heart at present ..... My beloved dad - I remember you and love you with all my coronary heart today tomorrow and yesterday eternally. A devoted husband and father. Always remembered for the love he shared with us and others. He leaves behind a legacy as a gentleman and absolute mensch.
In loving memory from the Wulfsohn household, Aubrey, Davina Joan, Dvor ..... In loving reminiscence from the Wulfsohn household, Aubrey, Davina Joan, Dvoralaio, Mariamne and Ben. To my wonderful and caring dad / grandfather , Nicole, Justin and I ..... It's been virtually a yr because you had passed...it feels surreal and we all still miss and think about you everyday. Not a day goes by granny, where you aren't talked about or remembered, ..... You are a pal and a mentor to me in my youthful days.
Sorry we couldn’t make it this time, amazing dedication by Birdlife and MSC to make it happen. Certainly deserves an award. Bringing tourism and conservation collectively in help of such a important problem facing the albatrosses is amazing! This may be the answer to fixing some of our pressing environmental issues. Wonderful to see in inaccessible part of the world and its birdlife.
eleven years at present since your passing and never a day goes by that I don’t miss and love you mom. My darling godmother Mimi...your love and wisdom will stay within Dr Greg Hough me eternally. Strength and love to all the household. Thinking of you right now on what would have been your 71st birthday mom.
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William Wordsworth was the supreme bard of nature and solitude
In pensive mood
William Wordsworth was the supreme bard of nature and solitude
Two hundred and fifty years after his birth, he remains a poet “of blessed consolations in distress”
Books, arts and culture
Prospero
IN THIS SEASON of cancelled parties, the 250th anniversary of William Wordsworth’s birth will also go unmarked in public. Celebrations of the English poet, born on April 7th 1770, should have bloomed like his beloved daffodils all over the Lakeland region (pictured), and beyond. He taught not only his compatriots but devotees around the world to be, like him, “a lover of the meadows and the woods, / And mountains; and of all that we behold / From this green earth”. Now the British landscapes he trudged through are empty of the visitors that his verse attracted from overcrowded Victorian cities. (Indeed, in his later years Wordsworth fretted about the mass tourism that his Romantic worship of unspoilt nature had fostered. “Is then no nook of English ground secure / From rash assault?” he thundered when the Kendal and Windermere railway, designed to carry Wordsworthian excursionists, was proposed in 1844.)
Wordsworth has lately stridden back into fashion as a pioneer ecologist, a “green” visionary. For him, nature is a single, interconnected system. Every child joins it not as an alien manipulator but, as his autobiographical epic, “The Prelude”, puts it, “an inmate of this active universe”; even “as an agent of the one great mind”. The fledgling poet, his mature self recalled, grasped and gloried in the interdependence of nature, “for in all things / I saw one life, and felt that it was joy.” The so-called “Gaia hypothesis” of modern environmentalism starts here.
First-hand encounters with the healing benefits of fell and vale have now been put on hold. Still, the bard of the great outdoors has lessons for people trapped inside by natural forces greater than human will. In a period of enforced apartness, Wordsworth’s lifelong pursuit of joyous solitude seems timelier than ever. He contrasted calm, reflective isolation with the loneliness of compulsory sociability. As his poem “Home at Grasmere” warns, “he truly is alone, / He of the multitude whose eyes are doomed / To hold vacant commerce day by day / With that which he can neither know nor love.”
For Wordsworth, solitude brings joy above all because it carves out space for memory. Even his over-familiar daffodils (“I wandered lonely as a cloud…”) matter most not at first sight but when, recollected, “they flash upon the inward eye / Which is the bliss of solitude”. More than the treks, tours and climbs around picturesque locations that filled his years and drew generations of disciples to ramble after him, what Wordsworth cherished was memory as solace and strength. “The Prelude” finds meaning not so much in the rapture of observation as the balm of reminiscence, since “The earth / And common face of Nature spake to me / Rememberable things”. Uncannily, his great poem of 1798, “Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey”, talks of finding relief through memory from “the fever of the world”. That relief comes in fond thoughts of the winding river Wye, “Thou wanderer through the woods, / How often has my spirit turned to thee.”
Generations of readers have noted that Wordsworth’s own memory-enriched solitude was companionably shared: his poetic jaunts around the Lakes depended on the decades-long support provided by his sister Dorothy, wife Mary, and sister-in-law Sara. This champion of rugged hermits, outcasts and nomads could always walk home to warm fires and friendly faces. He did, however, live with grief and loss—of his parents, his brother, of two young children, and of the political hopes prompted by the French Revolution that later shattered into what he calls “these times of fear / This melancholy waste of hopes o’erthrown”.
As a poet of comfort via simple, everyday experience, “of blessed consolations in distress”, he remains without equal. The philosopher John Stuart Mill paid the finest tribute to this gift. Stricken by a depressive breakdown after his hyper-intellectual youth, Mill—as his “Autobiography” of 1873 explains—found in Wordsworth a supremely effective “medicine for my mind”. His poems fed Mill with “a source of inward joy, of sympathetic and imaginative pleasure, which could be shared in by all human beings”. As Mill put it: “I felt myself at once better and happier as I came under their influence”.
During this spell of collective standstill, that power need not dim—and you do not need to contemplate some awesome summit, torrent or ravine to feel it. As the “Ode: Intimations of Immortality” confesses, “To me the meanest flower that blows can give / Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears”. Look closely when out on your next state-approved stroll.
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