Poems, 1. kötetTicknor and Fields, 1861 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 34 találatból.
12. oldal
... tears and pain , The flowers she most did love ; She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above . O , not in cruelty , not in wrath , The Reaper came that day ; ' T was an angel visited the green earth , And took ...
... tears and pain , The flowers she most did love ; She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above . O , not in cruelty , not in wrath , The Reaper came that day ; ' T was an angel visited the green earth , And took ...
16. oldal
... tears o'erflowing , Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn ; Not alone in Spring's armorial bearing , And in Summer's green - emblazoned field , But in arms of brave old Autumn's wearing , In the centre of his brazen shield ; Not alone in ...
... tears o'erflowing , Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn ; Not alone in Spring's armorial bearing , And in Summer's green - emblazoned field , But in arms of brave old Autumn's wearing , In the centre of his brazen shield ; Not alone in ...
18. oldal
... The shadows sweep away . Down the broad Vale of Tears afar The spectral camp is fled ; Faith shineth as a morning star , Our ghastly fears are dead . MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR . YES , the 18 VOICES OF THE NIGHT .
... The shadows sweep away . Down the broad Vale of Tears afar The spectral camp is fled ; Faith shineth as a morning star , Our ghastly fears are dead . MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR . YES , the 18 VOICES OF THE NIGHT .
25. oldal
... tear . WOODS IN WINTER . WHEN winter winds are piercing chill , And through the hawthorn blows the gale , With solemn feet I tread the hill , That overbrows the lonely vale . O'er the bare upland , and away Through the long reach of ...
... tear . WOODS IN WINTER . WHEN winter winds are piercing chill , And through the hawthorn blows the gale , With solemn feet I tread the hill , That overbrows the lonely vale . O'er the bare upland , and away Through the long reach of ...
27. oldal
... tears , By the mercy that endears , Spare him ! -he our love hath shared ! Spare him ! -as thou wouldst be spared ! " Take thy banner ! —and if e'er Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier , And the muffled drum should beat To the tread ...
... tears , By the mercy that endears , Spare him ! -he our love hath shared ! Spare him ! -as thou wouldst be spared ! " Take thy banner ! —and if e'er Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier , And the muffled drum should beat To the tread ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Albrecht Dürer angel Balt Bart beautiful behold belfry BELFRY OF BRUGES bell beneath Beware birds breast breath bride bright brooklet Bruges Carlos child Chis clouds Count of Lara Cruz Cruzado dance dark dead Death Don Carlos Don Dinero Dost thou doth dreams earth eyes fair father fear fire flowers Gascon gentle Gipsy gleam gold golden Guy de Dampierre hand hear heard heart heaven holy Humphrey Gilbert HYPOLITO JULIUS MOSEN land leaves light lips look Luck of Edenhall maiden merry midnight Minnesingers morning night Nils Juel o'er Padre pass poem Pray prayer Preciosa rain ring rise round sail Saint sang SCENE shadows shalt silent singing sleep soft song soul sound stands stars stood sweet tears Tharaw thee thine thou art thou hast thought Timoneda unto Vict Victorian village voice wave weary wild wind youth
Népszerű szakaszok
292. oldal - THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
95. oldal - THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. IT was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea ; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company.
10. oldal - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, " Life is but an empty dream ! " For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal; " Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
327. oldal - ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time ; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.
15. oldal - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. Stars they are, wherein we read our history, As astrologers and seers of eld ; Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery, Like the burning stars, which they beheld.
97. oldal - At daybreak on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt-sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes ; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow ! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe ! THE LUCK OF EDENHALL.
326. oldal - What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian Whose portal we call Death. She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ Himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.
90. oldal - Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear, While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow; Oft through the forest dark Followed the were-wolf's bark, Until the soaring lark Sang from the meadow.
14. oldal - Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more; He, the young and strong, who cherished Noble longings for the strife, By the road-side fell and perished, Weary with the march of life...
132. oldal - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.