The Poetical Common-place Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of Standard and Fugitive Poetry, Including a Few Translations Hitherto UnpublishedJohn Anderson, 1822 - 388 pagini |
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Pagina xiii
... heard , nor a fun'ral note , Not to the grave , not to the grave , my soul , Now Spring returns , but not to me returns , O'er breezy hill or woodland glade , 255 3 Not a leaf of the tree which stood near me was stirr'd , 4 126 344 55 O ...
... heard , nor a fun'ral note , Not to the grave , not to the grave , my soul , Now Spring returns , but not to me returns , O'er breezy hill or woodland glade , 255 3 Not a leaf of the tree which stood near me was stirr'd , 4 126 344 55 O ...
Pagina xiv
... heard the bugle sound , 340 The Star of eve was bright - down the lone dell , The sun of the morning , 167 287 The tears I shed must ever fall , The tumult of battle had ceas'd - high in air , The wight whose tale these artless lines ...
... heard the bugle sound , 340 The Star of eve was bright - down the lone dell , The sun of the morning , 167 287 The tears I shed must ever fall , The tumult of battle had ceas'd - high in air , The wight whose tale these artless lines ...
Pagina 2
... heard ! The hero , when a people's voice Proclaims their darling victor near , Feels he not then his soul rejoice , Their shouts of love , of praise to hear ? Yes ! fame to generous minds is dear- It pierces to their inmost core ; He ...
... heard ! The hero , when a people's voice Proclaims their darling victor near , Feels he not then his soul rejoice , Their shouts of love , of praise to hear ? Yes ! fame to generous minds is dear- It pierces to their inmost core ; He ...
Pagina 3
... heard , nor a funeral note , As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried . We buried him darkly at dead of night , The sods with our bayonets turning ; By ...
... heard , nor a funeral note , As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried . We buried him darkly at dead of night , The sods with our bayonets turning ; By ...
Pagina 4
... heard the distant and random gun , That the foe was suddenly firing . Slowly and sadly we laid him down , From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carv'd not a line , we rais'd not a stone , But we left him alone with his glory ...
... heard the distant and random gun , That the foe was suddenly firing . Slowly and sadly we laid him down , From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carv'd not a line , we rais'd not a stone , But we left him alone with his glory ...
Cuprins
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Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
The Poetical Common-place Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... Vizualizare completă - 1822 |
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Nu există previzualizare disponibilă - 2009 |
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Nu există previzualizare disponibilă - 2009 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
admiring bands ANONYMOUS art thou beam beauty beneath billows black crows blast blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright charm cheek cherub clouds cold dark dark wave dead dear death delight dream earth ev'ning ev'ry fair fate Fingal flowers fond Gelert gleam gloom glory glow grave green grief grove hail hast hath hear heart Heav'n HENRY KIRKE WHITE hill hour kiss of Morn light lips lonely LORD BYRON lov'd lyre maid moon morn mountain mourn Muse ne'er night o'er pale rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound star Star of Bethlehem storm strain stream summer sweet swell tear tell tempest thee thine thou thought tomb tree trembling Twas vale voice wake wander wave weep wild wind wing woods youth
Pasaje populare
Pagina 53 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Pagina 187 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Pagina 270 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Pagina 247 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee...
Pagina 235 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out...
Pagina 304 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Pagina 189 - If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death...
Pagina 229 - Can I forget the dismal night, that gave My soul's best part for ever to the grave! How silent did his old companions tread, By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead, Through breathing statues, then unheeded things, Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!
Pagina 85 - Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more ! Oh cruel fate ! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace — where no perils can chase me?
Pagina 4 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.