A Poetry Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs & Sonnets, Odes & Lyrics, Selected and Arranged, with Notes, from the Works of the Modern English and American Poets, Dating from the Middle of the Eighteenth Century to the Present TimeB. Tauchnitz, 1878 - 334 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 43 találatból.
6. oldal
... wild woods grow , and rivers row , And mony a hill between ; But , day and night , my fancy's flight Is ever wi ' my Jean . I see her in the dewy flowers , I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu ' birds , I hear her charm ...
... wild woods grow , and rivers row , And mony a hill between ; But , day and night , my fancy's flight Is ever wi ' my Jean . I see her in the dewy flowers , I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu ' birds , I hear her charm ...
13. oldal
... wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs ; And her's shall be the breathing balm , And her's the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things . " The floating clouds their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow ...
... wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs ; And her's shall be the breathing balm , And her's the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things . " The floating clouds their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow ...
20. oldal
... night - watch : nor should e'er the crested fowl From thorp or vill his matins sound for me , Tired of the world and all its industry . W. Wordsworth . RETIREMENT . GIVE me a cottage on some Cambrian wild The Ideal Hermitage.
... night - watch : nor should e'er the crested fowl From thorp or vill his matins sound for me , Tired of the world and all its industry . W. Wordsworth . RETIREMENT . GIVE me a cottage on some Cambrian wild The Ideal Hermitage.
21. oldal
... wild Where , far from cities , I may spend my days , And by the beauties of the scene beguil'd , May pity man's pursuits , and shun his ways . While on the rock I mark the browsing goat , List to the mountain - torrent's distant noise ...
... wild Where , far from cities , I may spend my days , And by the beauties of the scene beguil'd , May pity man's pursuits , and shun his ways . While on the rock I mark the browsing goat , List to the mountain - torrent's distant noise ...
24. oldal
... wild melody , And the croaking wicket oft Shall echo from the neighbouring croft ; Or else , serenely silent , sit By the brawling rivulet , Which on its calm unruffled breast Rears the old mossy arch impressed That clasps its secret ...
... wild melody , And the croaking wicket oft Shall echo from the neighbouring croft ; Or else , serenely silent , sit By the brawling rivulet , Which on its calm unruffled breast Rears the old mossy arch impressed That clasps its secret ...
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Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
A Poetry-Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs and Sonnets, Odes and ... Amelia Blanford Edwards Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2017 |
A Poetry-Book of Modern Poets: Consisting of Songs and Sonnets, Odes and ... Amelia Blanford Edwards Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2018 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
A. C. Swinburne Airly Beacon AUTUMN BARBARA FRITCHIE BELFRY OF BRUGES bells beneath bird blow boys come home breast breath bright CLEON clouds cowslips Cusha D. G. Rossetti daffodil dance dark dear death deep doth dream earth England's dead eyes fair flowers glory golden green hair hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Itylus kisses leaves light lips living Lochinvar look Lord Lord Byron loud maiden Minstrels and maids Modern Poets moon morn never night o'er OZYMANDIAS P. B. Shelley Persephone poem rain river rolling rose round S. T. Coleridge Samian wine shade shadow sigh silent sing sleep slumber snow song sorrow soul sound stars stream summer sweet tears Tennyson Terpander thee thine things thou art thought tree uppe Verse voice waves weep wild wind wings Wordsworth
Népszerű szakaszok
76. oldal - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
140. oldal - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms, and winding mossy ways.
143. oldal - TO A WATERFOWL. 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? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
227. oldal - Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
218. oldal - THE SOLITARY REAPER. BEHOLD her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
62. oldal - 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.
140. oldal - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
148. oldal - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, •An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
256. oldal - 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!
66. oldal - NOT a drum was heard, not 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.