Golden Numbers: Poems for Children and Young PeopleKate Douglas Smith Wiggin, Nora Archibald Smith Houghton Mifflin, 1902 - 686 oldal |
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Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Golden Numbers: Poems for Children and Young People Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2012 |
Golden Numbers: Poems for Children and Young People Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin,Nora Archibald Smith Nincs elérhető előnézet - 1970 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Banners are Waving beauty bells bird blow blue bonnie brave breath bright clouds dark dear deep doth drum earth eyes fair fairy Fancy Songs flowers Garden of Girls Glenlogie gold golden grass Green Things Growing hair hame happy Hark hath hear heard heart heaven hill Home and Country horn Inglenook JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL Joaquin Miller JOHN KEATS king lady Lady of Shalott land laugh light look Lord LORD TENNYSON loud lullaby maid Mally's Merry Mood morn mountain never night o'er Old Glory PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY rain RALPH WALDO EMERSON Reality Romance roar Romance and Reality round sail shine shore sing sleep snow Songs of Fancy soul sound Sports and Pastimes stars steed storm sweet thee thou tree voice wild WILLIAM WILLIAM ALLINGHAM WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind Wing World and Old
Népszerű szakaszok
160. oldal - But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover...
603. oldal - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
210. 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 stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
324. oldal - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
313. oldal - And burst the cannon's roar;— The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee;— The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea!
296. oldal - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
181. oldal - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory, Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
290. oldal - While the stormy winds do' blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow. The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave !— For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave: Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow...
27. oldal - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening" mild; then silent night With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train...
153. oldal - Where the great Sun begins his state, Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.