The Poetry of Life, 1. kötetCarey, Lea, and Blanchard, 1835 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 25 találatból.
51. oldal
... listen to that tune , " exclaims one , " I should never know unhappiness again ! " Spare me that song of mirth , " is the secret prayer of the stranger ; " it belongs to my own country . It tells me of the beauty and gladness of my ...
... listen to that tune , " exclaims one , " I should never know unhappiness again ! " Spare me that song of mirth , " is the secret prayer of the stranger ; " it belongs to my own country . It tells me of the beauty and gladness of my ...
56. oldal
... listen . Pictures are exhibited to those who cannot see their beauty . Pleasures are proposed , which , from their want of adapta- tion , are converted into pain . Kind intentions are frustrated ; and the best endeavours to be agreeable ...
... listen . Pictures are exhibited to those who cannot see their beauty . Pleasures are proposed , which , from their want of adapta- tion , are converted into pain . Kind intentions are frustrated ; and the best endeavours to be agreeable ...
62. oldal
... listening attentively to a common story , the eyebrows are occasionally elevated , and thus afford a sure indication that the hearer is interested , and that the narrator may proceed . How striking is the contraction of the forehead in ...
... listening attentively to a common story , the eyebrows are occasionally elevated , and thus afford a sure indication that the hearer is interested , and that the narrator may proceed . How striking is the contraction of the forehead in ...
72. oldal
... listen for awhile to the inner voice - the voice of the spirit , while the " tablet of unutterable thoughts is traced " upon it ; we immediately begin to ponder upon what may be the secret springs from whence flow the thoughts ...
... listen for awhile to the inner voice - the voice of the spirit , while the " tablet of unutterable thoughts is traced " upon it ; we immediately begin to ponder upon what may be the secret springs from whence flow the thoughts ...
96. oldal
... listen to the soft whispering of the wind among its silvery leaves , and gaze upon the glassy surface of the slowly moving stream , just rippled here and there by a stray branch projecting from the flowery bank , or a fairy forest of ...
... listen to the soft whispering of the wind among its silvery leaves , and gaze upon the glassy surface of the slowly moving stream , just rippled here and there by a stray branch projecting from the flowery bank , or a fairy forest of ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
admiration affections amongst animal artist asso associations beauty behold beneath birds bosom boughs brow burlesque capable character charm choly colour dark deep delight earth enjoyment evanescent excitement exquisite familiar fancy flowers gale gaze genius gratification hand happiness harmony heart heaven human ideas imagination impressions intel intellectual Irish labour language less light listen living look Lord Byron lyre mankind marble beauties melan melancholy melody mind minstrel misanthropy moon mountain mysterious nature neral night object ocean painter painting passions pathos peculiar perfect perhaps perpetual picture pleasure poet poet's poetic feeling poetry present principle racter refined repose rience rook SARAH STICKNEY scarcely scene sensations shadow shore silent smile solemn soul sound spirit spring stream striking sublime sweet symbo taste tempest tenderness things thou thought tion touching trees voice wandering waves weary weeping willow wild wind wings woods words
Népszerű szakaszok
307. oldal - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
302. oldal - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
319. oldal - Nor second he that rode sublime Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy, The secrets of th' abyss to spy. He passed the flaming bounds of Place and Time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but, blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
335. oldal - men would praise the LORD for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! 9 For he satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness.
330. oldal - And he will be a wild man ; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him ; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren.
163. oldal - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we...
331. oldal - He made darkness his secret place ; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies.
306. oldal - How beautiful is night ! A dewy freshness fills the silent air, No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven : In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths.
146. oldal - Now came still evening on, and twilight grey Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; She all night long her amorous descant sung , Silence was...