Lays and Lyrics of the Nineteenth CenturyJ. Charles, 1863 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 15 találatból.
43. oldal
... Hope not that wind or wave will bring The treasure back when needed . If thou hast bruised a vine , The summer's breath is healing , And its clusters yet may glow Through the leaves their bloom revealing ; But if thou hast a cup o'er ...
... Hope not that wind or wave will bring The treasure back when needed . If thou hast bruised a vine , The summer's breath is healing , And its clusters yet may glow Through the leaves their bloom revealing ; But if thou hast a cup o'er ...
44. oldal
... hope's faded flowers , And weeps o'er the chaplet when no one is near , To gaze on her grief , or to chide her tear . And the home of my childhood is distant far , And I walk in a land where strangers are , And the looks that I meet ...
... hope's faded flowers , And weeps o'er the chaplet when no one is near , To gaze on her grief , or to chide her tear . And the home of my childhood is distant far , And I walk in a land where strangers are , And the looks that I meet ...
78. oldal
... hope and sylvan fear , Yon thicket holds the harboured deer , His signs the hunters know : - With eyes of flame , and quivering ears , The brake sagacious Keeldar nears ; The restless palfrey paws and rears ; The archer strings his bow ...
... hope and sylvan fear , Yon thicket holds the harboured deer , His signs the hunters know : - With eyes of flame , and quivering ears , The brake sagacious Keeldar nears ; The restless palfrey paws and rears ; The archer strings his bow ...
87. oldal
... hope is past . The Song of the Shirt . With fingers weary and worn , with eyelids heavy and red , A woman sat , in unwomanly rags , plying her needle and thread : Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! in poverty , hunger , and dirt ; And still ...
... hope is past . The Song of the Shirt . With fingers weary and worn , with eyelids heavy and red , A woman sat , in unwomanly rags , plying her needle and thread : Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! in poverty , hunger , and dirt ; And still ...
89. oldal
... Hope , but only time for grief ! A little weeping would ease my heart , but in their briny bed My tears must stop , for every drop hinders needle and thread-- With fingers weary and worn , with eyelids heavy and red , A woman sat in ...
... Hope , but only time for grief ! A little weeping would ease my heart , but in their briny bed My tears must stop , for every drop hinders needle and thread-- With fingers weary and worn , with eyelids heavy and red , A woman sat in ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Abbot Abou ben Adhem angels Auvergne back my flowers battle beam beauty bells beloved sleep beneath blood Boscastle bosom breast breath bright broadswords brow cheek child chime cloud crest cried dark dead death deep doth dream earth fair fearful friends gaze Giaour giveth His beloved gleam glory grave green hand HARVARD COLLEGE hath hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hill Keeldar knew ladies gay land light lips lonely lonely rock looked Mayenne mortal may know Mountain Daisy never night o'er pale pass'd passing Pibroch prayer pride rest rose round sea bird Sensitive Plant shine shore sing skies smile song soul sound spirit stood stream strife sweet sword tears thee things are changing Thou art gone thou hast throne tide Tintagel tone tree Twas uncon voice waves ween weep wild wind wing youth
Népszerű szakaszok
88. oldal - O men with Sisters dear ! O men with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives! Stitch - stitch - stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
109. oldal - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — ' He giveth His beloved sleep ' ? What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep.
11. oldal - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
32. oldal - And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale, That the light of its tremulous bells is seen Through their pavilions of tender green...
62. oldal - The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
85. oldal - O clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid. Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade! By love's simplicity betray'd. And guileless trust; Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
91. oldal - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
89. 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, Was not spoken of the soul.
109. oldal - Sleep soft, beloved !" we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. But never doleful dream again. Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
81. oldal - Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily merrily mingle they, 'Waken, lords and ladies gay.' Waken, lords and ladies gay...