Poems of Places: England and Wales, 2. kötetHenry Wadsworth Longfellow J.R. Osgood and Company, 1876 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 15 találatból.
11. oldal
... feel last his sway , And Death reveres his trust . They touched that wreath ; From sunshine into dust ! it sank away Then Henry lifted from his head The Conqueror's iron crown ; That crown upon that dust he laid , And knelt in reverence ...
... feel last his sway , And Death reveres his trust . They touched that wreath ; From sunshine into dust ! it sank away Then Henry lifted from his head The Conqueror's iron crown ; That crown upon that dust he laid , And knelt in reverence ...
19. oldal
... feels how blind , how weak Is man , though loath such help to seek , Yet , passing , here might pause , And thirst for insight to allay Misgiving , while the crimson day In quietness withdraws ; Or when the church - clock's knell ...
... feels how blind , how weak Is man , though loath such help to seek , Yet , passing , here might pause , And thirst for insight to allay Misgiving , while the crimson day In quietness withdraws ; Or when the church - clock's knell ...
26. oldal
... Feels less assured than thou , dear maid , When , ere thy ruby lips could part ( As close to mine thy cheek was laid ) , Thine eyes had opened all thy heart . Then , then I marked the chastened joy That lightly o'er thy features stole ...
... Feels less assured than thou , dear maid , When , ere thy ruby lips could part ( As close to mine thy cheek was laid ) , Thine eyes had opened all thy heart . Then , then I marked the chastened joy That lightly o'er thy features stole ...
48. oldal
... feeling , In Christian days of yore . Till once a stalwart company Of men with gloomy faces , Unlike the men ye used to see In such - like holy places In quiet days of yore , With savage hands pulled down the sign Of our Redeemer's ...
... feeling , In Christian days of yore . Till once a stalwart company Of men with gloomy faces , Unlike the men ye used to see In such - like holy places In quiet days of yore , With savage hands pulled down the sign Of our Redeemer's ...
49. oldal
... feeling , Blessing the days of yore . Henry Alford . Hatfield Broadoak . THE OLD OAK - TREE AT HATFIELD BROADOAK . A MIGHTY growth ! The countyside Lamented when the giant died , For England loves her trees : What misty legends round ...
... feeling , Blessing the days of yore . Henry Alford . Hatfield Broadoak . THE OLD OAK - TREE AT HATFIELD BROADOAK . A MIGHTY growth ! The countyside Lamented when the giant died , For England loves her trees : What misty legends round ...
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Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ABBEY ancient arch behold bells beneath breast breath breeze brow calm clouds crown Cusha dark days of yore dead death deep doth dream dwell earth eyes fair gazed gleam gliding glory GRASMERE grave gray green HADDON HALL hall hand happy hath HATHERN hear heard heart heaven Helvellyn Henry Alford hill holy hour INGLEWOOD FOREST James Payn King light London lonely look Lord mighty MONGEWELL mountain mourned NETLEY ABBEY NEWSTEAD ABBEY night Nore o'er once pass peace Praise rise roar Robert Southey Robert Stephen Hawker rock rolled round Saint scene shade shine sight silent Sir Walter sleep smile solemn song soul sound spot stone stood stream street sweet thee thine Thomas Tickell thou thought tomb towers trees uppe vale voice vulgar Boy walls wave Whittington wild William Lisle Bowles William Shakespeare William Wordsworth wind woods
Népszerű szakaszok
60. oldal - My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat...
34. oldal - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
175. oldal - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
35. oldal - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
154. oldal - THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN. AT the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a thrush that sings loud — it has sung for three years ; Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the bird. Tis a note of enchantment ; what ails her ? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
234. oldal - The furious German comes, with his clarions and his drums, His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall; They are bursting on our flanks! Grasp your pikes! Close your ranks! For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. They are here! They rush on! We are broken! We are gone! Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. O Lord, put forth Thy might! O Lord, defend the right! Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last!
153. oldal - ON THE DEATH OF DR, LEV KIT. CONDEMNED to hope's delusive mine, As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blasts, or slow decline, Our social comforts drop away. Well tried through many a varying year, See Levett to the grave descend, Officious, innocent, sincere, Of every friendless name the friend.
117. oldal - Receding and speeding, And shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, And threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, And dripping and skipping, And hitting and splitting, And shining and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and...
36. 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 Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
91. oldal - I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies; And dark against day's golden death She moved where Lindis wandereth, My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth. 'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. 'Cusha! Cusha!