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Your queriesclaims, if any arising out of your usage of the said website, should be directed solely to the owner of the website and Air India shall not be responsible andor liable in that regard. Wordsworth, William. Complete Poetical Works. THE PRELUDEBOOK SECONDSCHOOL TIME continued. THUS far, O FriendUnvisited, endeavoured to retrace. The simple ways in which my childhood walked. Those chiefly that first led me to the love. Of rivers, woods, and fields. The passion yet. Was in its birth, sustained as might befall. By nourishment that came unsought for still. From week to week, from month to month, we lived. A round of tumult. Duly were our games. Prolonged in summer till the daylight failed 1. No chair remained before the doors the bench. And threshold steps were empty fast asleep. The labourer, and the old man who had sate. A later lingerer yet the revelry. Continued and the loud uproar at last. When all the ground was dark, and twinkling stars. Edged the black clouds, home and to bed we went. Feverish with weary joints and beating minds. Ah is there one who ever has been young. Nor needs a warning voice to tame the pride 2. Of intellect and virtues self esteem One is there, though the wisest and the best. Of all mankind, who covets not at times. Union that cannot be who would not give. If so he might, to duty and to truth. The eagerness of infantine desire A tranquillising spirit presses now. On my corporeal frame, so wide appears. The vacancy between me and those days. Which yet have such self presence in my mind, 3. That, musing on them, often do I seem. Two consciousnesses, conscious of myself. And of some other Being. A rude mass. Of native rock, left midway in the square. Of our small market village, was the goal. Or centre of these sports and when, returned. After long absence, thither I repaired. Gone was the old grey stone, and in its place. A smart Assembly room usurped the ground. That had been ours. There let the fiddle scream, 4. And be ye happy Yet, my Friends I know. That more than one of you will think with me. Of those soft starry nights, and that old Dame. From whom the stone was named, who there had sate. And watched her table with its hucksters wares. Assiduous, through the length of sixty years. We ran a boisterous course the year span round. With giddy motion. But the time approached. That brought with it a regular desire. For calmer pleasures, when the winning forms 5. Of Nature were collaterally attached. To every scheme of holiday delight. And every boyish sport, less grateful else. And languidly pursued. When summer came. Our pastime was, on bright half holidays. To sweep along the plain of Windermere. With rival oars and the selected bourne. Was now an Island musical with birds. That sang and ceased not now a Sister Isle. Beneath the oaks umbrageous covert, sown 6. With lilies of the valley like a field. And now a third small Island, where survived. In solitude the ruins of a shrine. Once to Our Lady dedicate, and served. Daily with chaunted rites. In such a race. So ended, disappointment could be none. Uneasiness, or pain, or jealousy. We rested in the shade, all pleased alike. Conquered and conqueror. Thus the pride of strength. And the vain glory of superior skill, 7. Were tempered thus was gradually produced. A quiet independence of the heart. And to my Friend who knows me I may add. Fearless of blame, that hence for future days. Ensued a diffidence and modesty. And I was taught to feel, perhaps too much. San Andreas Game Full Version Pc'>San Andreas Game Full Version Pc. The self sufficing power of Solitude. Our daily meals were frugal, Sabine fareMore than we wished we knew the blessing then. Of vigorous hunger hence corporeal strength 8. Unsapped by delicate viands for, exclude. A little weekly stipend, and we lived. Through three divisions of the quartered year. In penniless poverty. But now to school. From the half yearly holidays returned. We came with weightier purses, that sufficed. To furnish treats more costly than the Dame. Of the old grey stone, from her scant board, supplied. Hence rustic dinners on the cool green ground. Or in the woods, or by a river side 9. Or shady fountains, while among the leaves. Soft airs were stirring, and the mid day sun. Unfelt shone brightly round us in our joy. Nor is my aim neglected if I tell. How sometimes, in the length of those half years. We from our funds drew largely proud to curb. And eager to spur on, the galloping steed. And with the courteous inn keeper, whose stud. Supplied our want, we haply might employ. Sly subterfuge, if the adventures bound 1. Were distant some famed temple where of yore. The Druids worshipped, or the antique walls. Of that large abbey, where within the Vale. Of Nightshade, to St. Marys honour built. Stands yet a mouldering pile with fractured arch. Belfry, and images, and living trees. A holy scene Along the smooth green turf. Our horses grazed. Convert Dmg To Iso Virtualbox Extension there. To more than inland peace. Left by the west wind sweeping overhead. From a tumultuous ocean, trees and towers 1. In that sequestered valley may be seen. Both silent and both motionless alike. Such the deep shelter that is there, and such. The safeguard for repose and quietness. Our steeds remounted and the summons given. With whip and spur we through the chauntry flew. In uncouth race, and left the cross legged knight. And the stone abbot, and that single wren. Which one day sang so sweetly in the nave. Of the old church, that though from recent showers 1. The earth was comfortless, and, touched by faint. Internal breezes, sobbings of the place. And respirations, from the roofless walls. The shuddering ivy dripped large drops yet still. So sweetly mid the gloom the invisible bird. Sang to herself, that there I could have made. My dwelling place, and lived for ever there. To hear such music. Through the walls we flew. And down the valley, and, a circuit made. In wantonness of heart, through rough and smooth 1. We scampered homewards. Oh, ye rocks and streams. And that still spirit shed from evening air Even in this joyous time I sometimes felt. Your presence, when with slackened step we breathed. Along the sides of the steep hills, or when. Lighted by gleams of moonlight from the sea. We beat with thundering hoofs the level sand. Midway on long Winanders eastern shore. Wordpress Responsive Themes. Within the crescent of pleasant bay. A tavern stood no homely featured house, 1. Primeval like its neighbouring cottages. But twas a splendid place, the door beset. With chaises, grooms, and liveries, and within. Decanters, glasses, and the blood red wine. In ancient times, and ere the Hall was built. On the large island, had this dwelling been. More worthy of a poets love, a hut. Proud of its own bright fire and sycamore shade. But though the rhymes were gone that once inscribed. The threshold, and large golden characters, 1. Spread oer the spangled sign board, had dislodged. The old Lion and usurped his place, in slight. And mockery of the rustic painters hand. Yet, to this hour, the spot to me is dear. With all its foolish pomp. The garden lay. Upon a slope surmounted by a plain. Of a small bowling green beneath us stood. A grove, with gleams of water through the trees. And over the tree tops nor did we want. Refreshment, strawberries and mellow cream. There, while through half an afternoon we played. On the smooth platform, whether skill prevailed. Or happy blunder triumphed, bursts of glee. Made all the mountains ring. But, ere night fall. When in our pinnace we returned at leisure. Over the shadowy lake, and to the beach. Of some small island steered our course with one. The Minstrel of the Troop, and left him there. And rowed off gently, while he blew his flute.