The book of poetry [ed. by B.G. Johns].E. Lumley, 1847 - 186 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 7 találatból.
72. oldal
... dreadful revelry . Then shook the hills with thunder riven , Then rush'd the steed to battle driven , And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flash'd the red artillery . S. M. THE HOME OF THE SPIRIT . But redder yet that Campbell.
... dreadful revelry . Then shook the hills with thunder riven , Then rush'd the steed to battle driven , And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flash'd the red artillery . S. M. THE HOME OF THE SPIRIT . But redder yet that Campbell.
93. oldal
... dreadful roll'd its grinding wheels Over the bloody war : the Roman arms Triumph'd till Fame was silent of their foes . And now the world unrivall'd they enjoy'd In proud security : the crested helm , The plaited greave and corslet ...
... dreadful roll'd its grinding wheels Over the bloody war : the Roman arms Triumph'd till Fame was silent of their foes . And now the world unrivall'd they enjoy'd In proud security : the crested helm , The plaited greave and corslet ...
94. oldal
... Dreadful attraction ! while behind thee gapes Th ' unfathomable gulf where Asshur lies O'erwhelm'd , forgotten ; and high - boasting Cham , And Elam's haughty pomp , and beauteous Greece , And the great queen of earth , imperial Rome ...
... Dreadful attraction ! while behind thee gapes Th ' unfathomable gulf where Asshur lies O'erwhelm'd , forgotten ; and high - boasting Cham , And Elam's haughty pomp , and beauteous Greece , And the great queen of earth , imperial Rome ...
108. oldal
... dreadful beauteous sight , An angel came to us , and we could bear To see him issue from the silent air At evening in our room , and bend on ours His divine eyes , —and bring us from his bowers News of dear friends and children who have ...
... dreadful beauteous sight , An angel came to us , and we could bear To see him issue from the silent air At evening in our room , and bend on ours His divine eyes , —and bring us from his bowers News of dear friends and children who have ...
133. oldal
... dreadful noise of water in mine ears ! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks , A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon ; Wedges of gold , great anchors , heaps of pearl , Inestimable ...
... dreadful noise of water in mine ears ! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks , A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon ; Wedges of gold , great anchors , heaps of pearl , Inestimable ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
beauty behold bells beneath bowers breast breath bright Caledonia CASABIANCA charms cheerful clouds cried Cumnor Hall dark dead death deep doth dread E'en earth eyes fair falchion Father William fear flowers Gelert gentle glory grave green green days Grongar Hill hand hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hill HOHENLINDEN hope HYMN King Henry land light LLEWELLYN lonely look look'd Lord Lycidas Mayenne Milford Bay morn mourn murmur never night o'er pass'd Plymouth Bay pomp porringer praise pray round S. T. COLERIDGE shade sight silent sing Skiddaw skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound sound of music spirit spring star stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought village voice wave weep wild wind wings woods young youth
Népszerű szakaszok
116. oldal - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor...
28. oldal - Sweet smiling village ! loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green ! One only master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain...
119. oldal - 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...
120. oldal - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — 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.
34. oldal - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
134. oldal - I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 'God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly : thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.
26. oldal - And when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves Of Pine, or monumental Oak, Where the rude Axe with heaved stroke, Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.
65. oldal - Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many? seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they, I pray you tell?
28. oldal - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
73. oldal - Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow, On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun, Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave ! And charge with all thy chivalry...