The book of poetry [ed. by B.G. Johns].E. Lumley, 1847 - 186 pagini |
Din interiorul cărții
Rezultatele 1 - 5 din 25
Pagina 2
... hours We oft are tempted suddenly to dress The tombs of half - forgotten moods with flowers : Our own choice mocks us ; and the sweetest themes Come to us without call , -wayward as dreams . THE BOOK OF POETRY . Part I. THE FAIRIES OF.
... hours We oft are tempted suddenly to dress The tombs of half - forgotten moods with flowers : Our own choice mocks us ; and the sweetest themes Come to us without call , -wayward as dreams . THE BOOK OF POETRY . Part I. THE FAIRIES OF.
Pagina 17
... hour . Scorn'd bramble of the brake ! once more Thou bid'st me be a boy , To gad with thee the woodlands o'er In freedom and in joy . ELLIOT . 17 THE ARMADA . ATTEND , all ye who list to hear our noble Eng- land's praise ; I tell of the ...
... hour . Scorn'd bramble of the brake ! once more Thou bid'st me be a boy , To gad with thee the woodlands o'er In freedom and in joy . ELLIOT . 17 THE ARMADA . ATTEND , all ye who list to hear our noble Eng- land's praise ; I tell of the ...
Pagina 33
... hour 33 For thy new light , and trembled at each shower . When thou dost shine , darkness looks white and fair , Forms turn to music , clouds to smiles and air ; Rain gently spends his honey - drops , and pours Balm on the cleft earth ...
... hour 33 For thy new light , and trembled at each shower . When thou dost shine , darkness looks white and fair , Forms turn to music , clouds to smiles and air ; Rain gently spends his honey - drops , and pours Balm on the cleft earth ...
Pagina 40
... hour ; Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize , More bent to raise the wretched than to rise . His house was known to all the vagrant train ; He chid their wand'rings , but reliev'd their pain . The long - remember'd beggar was ...
... hour ; Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize , More bent to raise the wretched than to rise . His house was known to all the vagrant train ; He chid their wand'rings , but reliev'd their pain . The long - remember'd beggar was ...
Pagina 43
... hour for retiring : And we heard the distant and random gun Of the enemy suddenly firing . Slowly and sadly we laid him down From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line , and we raised not a stone , But we left him ...
... hour for retiring : And we heard the distant and random gun Of the enemy suddenly firing . Slowly and sadly we laid him down From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line , and we raised not a stone , But we left him ...
Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
Termeni și expresii frecvente
beauty behold bells beneath bowers breast breath bright Caledonia CASABIANCA charms cheerful clouds cried Cumnor Hall dark dead death deep doth dread E'en earth eyes fair falchion Father William fear flowers Gelert gentle glory grave green green days Grongar Hill hand hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hill HOHENLINDEN hope HYMN King Henry land light LLEWELLYN lonely look look'd Lord Lycidas Mayenne Milford Bay morn mourn murmur never night o'er pass'd Plymouth Bay pomp porringer praise pray round S. T. COLERIDGE shade sight silent sing Skiddaw skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound sound of music spirit spring star stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought village voice wave weep wild wind wings woods young youth
Pasaje populare
Pagina 116 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor...
Pagina 28 - Sweet smiling village ! loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green ! One only master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain...
Pagina 119 - The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity ; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and...
Pagina 120 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Pagina 34 - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Pagina 134 - I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 'God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly : thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.
Pagina 26 - And when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves Of Pine, or monumental Oak, Where the rude Axe with heaved stroke, Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.
Pagina 65 - Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many? seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they, I pray you tell?
Pagina 28 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
Pagina 73 - Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow, On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun, Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave ! And charge with all thy chivalry...