The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. BuchanAlexander Winton Buchan 1861 |
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Pagina 11
... face , And crooked up a lying knee ; And soon I found in that best place , Not one dear friend knew aught of me . I ventured in ; -Tray wagg'd his tail , He fawn'd and to my mother ran : " Come here ! " she cried , " what can he ail ...
... face , And crooked up a lying knee ; And soon I found in that best place , Not one dear friend knew aught of me . I ventured in ; -Tray wagg'd his tail , He fawn'd and to my mother ran : " Come here ! " she cried , " what can he ail ...
Pagina 12
... face behind the rock , While tears swam round in every eye , And not a single word was spoke . " He lives indeed ! this kerchief see , At parting his dear Jessy gave ; He sent it far , with love , by me , To show he still escapes the ...
... face behind the rock , While tears swam round in every eye , And not a single word was spoke . " He lives indeed ! this kerchief see , At parting his dear Jessy gave ; He sent it far , with love , by me , To show he still escapes the ...
Pagina 21
... face , And the child stops amid his bounding race , And the tall stripling bends Low to thine ear with duty unforgot- Alas , dear mother , that thou seest them not ! But thou canst hear - and love May richly on a human tongue be pour'd ...
... face , And the child stops amid his bounding race , And the tall stripling bends Low to thine ear with duty unforgot- Alas , dear mother , that thou seest them not ! But thou canst hear - and love May richly on a human tongue be pour'd ...
Pagina 36
... face grotesque , and antic brisk , With many a lamb - like frisk , ( He's got the scissors snipping at your gown ! ) Thou pretty opening rose ! ( Go to your mother , child , and wipe your nose ! ) Balmy , and breathing music like the ...
... face grotesque , and antic brisk , With many a lamb - like frisk , ( He's got the scissors snipping at your gown ! ) Thou pretty opening rose ! ( Go to your mother , child , and wipe your nose ! ) Balmy , and breathing music like the ...
Pagina 39
... face , Though I cannot speak a word , I shall hearken what you say , And be often , often with you , when you think I'm far away . Good night , good night - when I have said good night for evermore , And you see me carried out from the ...
... face , Though I cannot speak a word , I shall hearken what you say , And be often , often with you , when you think I'm far away . Good night , good night - when I have said good night for evermore , And you see me carried out from the ...
Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. Buchan Alexander Winton Buchan Vizualizare completă - 1859 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
ALEXANDER WINTON Andromache beauty beneath bird breast breath bright brothers call'd Canute child clouds cold Colma cottage crown dark dead dear death deep Dismal Swamp dost doth dread earth Edinburgh Edition eternal fair falchion father fear fire flowers Forever-never friends gazed glory green grief hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill History Iceni Keeldar king Lausus light live lonely look Lord Mezentius mitherless bairn morning mother N. P. WILLIS ne'er nest never Never-forever night o'er pass'd poet praise pride Professor Queen rest ROBERT BURNS rock round Salgar seem'd silent sing SIR WALTER SCOTT sleep smile song sorrow soul speak stood stream Sugh summer sweet tears tell thee thine THOMAS HOOD thou art thought throne Tidore tree Tuscany Twas University of Edinburgh Vex'd voice weary weep wild wind wing word
Pasaje populare
Pagina 74 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear, keen joyance Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Pagina 49 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn : He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Pagina 27 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way?
Pagina 92 - 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 72 - Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Pagina 96 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Pagina 91 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Pagina 58 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Pagina 59 - Not as a child shall we again behold her ; For when with raptures wild In our embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child ; But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful with all the soul's expansion Shall we behold her face.
Pagina 91 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.