The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. BuchanAlexander Winton Buchan 1861 |
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Pagina 5
... Lady and Adopted Child , The Death of Keeldar , The Widow of Nain , Lines suggested by a beautiful Statue of a Dead Child , A Parental Ode to my Child , The May Queen , Krummacher . 10 Wordsworth . 10 Miss Blamire . 11 Bernard Barton ...
... Lady and Adopted Child , The Death of Keeldar , The Widow of Nain , Lines suggested by a beautiful Statue of a Dead Child , A Parental Ode to my Child , The May Queen , Krummacher . 10 Wordsworth . 10 Miss Blamire . 11 Bernard Barton ...
Pagina 29
... LADY AND ADOPTED CHILD , MRS HEMANS . Some years since , a young New Zealander was carried to England , where he lived many years , was carefully educated , and introduced into the most refined society . When his education was completed ...
... LADY AND ADOPTED CHILD , MRS HEMANS . Some years since , a young New Zealander was carried to England , where he lived many years , was carefully educated , and introduced into the most refined society . When his education was completed ...
Pagina 30
... Lady , kind lady ! oh let me go ! " LADY . " Fair child , thy brothers are wanderers now , They sport no more on the mountain's brow , They have left the fern by the spring's green side , And the streams where the fairy barks were tied ...
... Lady , kind lady ! oh let me go ! " LADY . " Fair child , thy brothers are wanderers now , They sport no more on the mountain's brow , They have left the fern by the spring's green side , And the streams where the fairy barks were tied ...
Pagina 48
... lady , deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheugh , Nor tempt the stormy firth to - day . The blackening wave is edged with white ; To inch and rock the seamews fly ; The fishers have heard the Water Sprite , Whose screams forbode ...
... lady , deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheugh , Nor tempt the stormy firth to - day . The blackening wave is edged with white ; To inch and rock the seamews fly ; The fishers have heard the Water Sprite , Whose screams forbode ...
Pagina 49
... Lady - mother there Sits lonely in her castle hall . " " Tis not because the ring they ride , And Lindesay at the ring rides well , But that my sire the wine will chide , If ' tis not filled by Rosabelle . " O'er Roslin all that dreary ...
... Lady - mother there Sits lonely in her castle hall . " " Tis not because the ring they ride , And Lindesay at the ring rides well , But that my sire the wine will chide , If ' tis not filled by Rosabelle . " O'er Roslin all that dreary ...
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
beauty beneath bird blood breast breath bright brothers Canute child clouds cold comes crown dark dead dear death deep dread early earth eternal face fair father fear feel fire flowers friends give gone green hall hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill History hope hour Italy king knew LADY leave light lives look Lord meet morning mother nature nest never night o'er once pass poet poor praise pride Professor Queen rest rise rock rose round seen silent sing sleep smile song soon soul sound speak spirit stand stood streams summer sweet tears tell thee things thou thought throne tree voice weary wild wind wing winter young
Pasaje populare
Pagina 72 - 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 47 - 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 25 - 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 90 - 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 70 - Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Pagina 94 - 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 89 - 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 56 - 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 57 - 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 89 - 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.