Select specimens of English poetryLongman, Brown, Green, & Longmans, 1856 |
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Pagina x
... Sleep the Brave ? Collins Milman 103 31. The Spartans ' March Mrs. Hemans 118 Wordsworth 104 32. Home Thoughts from Abroad Robert Browning 33. The Irish Maiden's Song . 22. The Glory of Great Britain 23. The German Rhine 24. The Poet's ...
... Sleep the Brave ? Collins Milman 103 31. The Spartans ' March Mrs. Hemans 118 Wordsworth 104 32. Home Thoughts from Abroad Robert Browning 33. The Irish Maiden's Song . 22. The Glory of Great Britain 23. The German Rhine 24. The Poet's ...
Pagina 2
... sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him . But half of our heavy task was done , When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing . BOADICEA . Slowly and ...
... sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him . But half of our heavy task was done , When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing . BOADICEA . Slowly and ...
Pagina 14
... wrapp'd the Pilgrim's sleep , Still brood upon the tide ; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep , l'o stay its waves of pride . THE GRAVE OF THE INDIAN CHIEF . But the snow 14 HISTORICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL POEMS .
... wrapp'd the Pilgrim's sleep , Still brood upon the tide ; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep , l'o stay its waves of pride . THE GRAVE OF THE INDIAN CHIEF . But the snow 14 HISTORICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL POEMS .
Pagina 17
... sleeps On green Virginia's breast . Ye say their conelike cabins , That clustered o'er the vale , Have disappeared , as withered leaves Before the autumn's gale ; But their memory liveth on your hills , Their baptism on your shore ...
... sleeps On green Virginia's breast . Ye say their conelike cabins , That clustered o'er the vale , Have disappeared , as withered leaves Before the autumn's gale ; But their memory liveth on your hills , Their baptism on your shore ...
Pagina 33
... sleep . " Mammon's plague - ships throng the waves ; Oh ! ' twere mercy to the slaves , Were the maws of sharks their graves . Hercules , thy pillars stand , Sentinels of sea and land ; Cloud - capt Atlas towers at hand . 33 Mark the ...
... sleep . " Mammon's plague - ships throng the waves ; Oh ! ' twere mercy to the slaves , Were the maws of sharks their graves . Hercules , thy pillars stand , Sentinels of sea and land ; Cloud - capt Atlas towers at hand . 33 Mark the ...
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
Arouse thee BARRY CORNWALL battle BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE beauty beneath BERNARD BARTON birds bless blow brave breast breath bright cheer Cleon clouds dark dead death deep delight Derivations doth dread dream earth ELIZA COOK ellipsis England English Poetry Etymology father fear feel flowers geography give glorious glory glow grave green Greenwich Hospital hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour human HUMPHREY GILBERT John Herschel king labour land light live look Lord mighty mind morning mountains nature never night noble o'er ocean Patrick Spence peace pleasure Pompey prayer rocks round RUNNEMEDE sail Samian wine shine ship shore sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star storm sweet Syntax tear tempest thine things thought toil Twas voice waves wild wind wings words youth
Pasaje populare
Pagina 49 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Pagina 194 - And sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow ! The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave : For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave. Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow.
Pagina 39 - And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not — his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away...
Pagina 281 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Pagina 274 - Man that is born of a woman Is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down : He fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.
Pagina 337 - For a thousand years in thy sight Are but as yesterday when it is past, And as a watch in the night. Thou carriest them away as with a flood ; they are as a sleep : In the morning they are like grass which groweth up. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up ; In the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
Pagina 352 - And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow : and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish ? 39 And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.
Pagina 75 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Pagina 124 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Pagina 117 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.