The Golden Book of English SonnetsWilliam Robertson G. G. Harrap limited, 1913 - 269 pagini |
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Pagina xi
... Thou art free . ' Twas August , and the fierce sun overhead 111 112 113 ASHE , THOMAS , 1836-1889 Brook , happy brook , that glidest through my dell ; 146 BACON , FRANCIS , 1561-1626 Seated between the old world and the new , 25 BARING ...
... Thou art free . ' Twas August , and the fierce sun overhead 111 112 113 ASHE , THOMAS , 1836-1889 Brook , happy brook , that glidest through my dell ; 146 BACON , FRANCIS , 1561-1626 Seated between the old world and the new , 25 BARING ...
Pagina xii
... thou exchange When our two souls stand up erect and strong , My letters ! all dead paper , mute and white ! 220 221 222 223 224 225 259 95 96 97 98 99 100 BUCHANAN , ROBERT , 1841-1901 When He returns , and finds the World so drear— 161 ...
... thou exchange When our two souls stand up erect and strong , My letters ! all dead paper , mute and white ! 220 221 222 223 224 225 259 95 96 97 98 99 100 BUCHANAN , ROBERT , 1841-1901 When He returns , and finds the World so drear— 161 ...
Pagina xiii
... thou com'st not in the guise Where lurks the shining quarry , swift and shy , DOWDEN , EDWARD , 1843-1913 Why do I sing ? I know not why , my friend ; Where have I been this perfect summer day , - The tenderest ripple touched and ...
... thou com'st not in the guise Where lurks the shining quarry , swift and shy , DOWDEN , EDWARD , 1843-1913 Why do I sing ? I know not why , my friend ; Where have I been this perfect summer day , - The tenderest ripple touched and ...
Pagina xiv
... Thou art a fisher of Mazorbo ; lone , We stand upon the moorish mountain side HEMANS , FELICIA DOROTHEA , 1793-1835 How many blessed groups this hour are bending , HERBERT , GEORGE , 1593-1633 223 22 118 119 86 Lord , with what care hast ...
... Thou art a fisher of Mazorbo ; lone , We stand upon the moorish mountain side HEMANS , FELICIA DOROTHEA , 1793-1835 How many blessed groups this hour are bending , HERBERT , GEORGE , 1593-1633 223 22 118 119 86 Lord , with what care hast ...
Pagina xv
... thou art- 82 83 84 104 KEMBLE , FRANCES ANNE , 1809-1893 Cover me with your everlasting arms , KERNAHAN , COULSON , b . 1858 If in Life's Camp I saw my tent - door darken , LAMB , CHARLES , 1775-1834 243 In Christian world Mary the ...
... thou art- 82 83 84 104 KEMBLE , FRANCES ANNE , 1809-1893 Cover me with your everlasting arms , KERNAHAN , COULSON , b . 1858 If in Life's Camp I saw my tent - door darken , LAMB , CHARLES , 1775-1834 243 In Christian world Mary the ...
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beauty beneath breath bright clouds DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI dark dead dear Death delight didst dost doth dream DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN earth EDMOND HOLMES EDWARD CRACROFT LEFROY ENGLISH SONNETS JOHN ENGLISH SONNETS WILLIAM eternal eyes face fade fair feet flowers forget glory gold GOLDEN ENGLISH SONNETS GOLDEN JOHN GOLDEN WILLIAM hand hast hath heart heaven HENRY CHARLES BEECHING hills JOHN KEATS kiss land leaves life's light lips live lone Lord love's moon morning muse never night o'er peace PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON praise ROSAMUND MARRIOTT WATSON rose round SAMUEL WADDINGTON shadows shepherds shine shore sigh sight silent sing skies sleep soft song soul Spring stars summer sweet tears thee THEODORE WATTS-DUNTON thine things thou art thought to-day voice WATSON waves weary WILFRID SCAWEN WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Willowwood wind wings woods
Pasaje populare
Pagina 50 - CYRIAC, this three years' day, these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman.
Pagina 58 - THE world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that...
Pagina 19 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights ; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Pagina 20 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Pagina 35 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
Pagina 11 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Pagina 2 - The turtle to her make hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs. The hart hath hung his old head on the pale ; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes fleet with new repaired scale.
Pagina 78 - THE poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; That is the Grasshopper's — he takes the lead In summer luxury, — he has never done With his delights ; for when tired out with fun He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Pagina 16 - How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness everywhere! And yet this time remov'd was summer's time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widow'd wombs after their lords...
Pagina 48 - When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present 5 My true account, lest he returning chide; "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?