Sonnets, and Other Poems,T. Cadell, jun. and W. Davies, Strand, and J. Mawman, Poultry, London; and R. Cruttwell, Bath., 1800 - 180 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 19 találatból.
17. oldal
... beneath this lowly bed- ' Tis poor MATILDA ! -To the cloister'd scene , A mourner , beauteous and unknown , she came , To shed her tears unmark'd , and quench the flame Of fruitless love : yet was her look serene As the pale moonlight ...
... beneath this lowly bed- ' Tis poor MATILDA ! -To the cloister'd scene , A mourner , beauteous and unknown , she came , To shed her tears unmark'd , and quench the flame Of fruitless love : yet was her look serene As the pale moonlight ...
27. oldal
... beneath their murmuring , Thou late hast pass'd the happier hours of spring , With sadness thou wilt mark the fading year , Chiefly if one , with whom such sweets at morn Or eve thou'st shar'd , to distant scenes shall stray . O spring ...
... beneath their murmuring , Thou late hast pass'd the happier hours of spring , With sadness thou wilt mark the fading year , Chiefly if one , with whom such sweets at morn Or eve thou'st shar'd , to distant scenes shall stray . O spring ...
36. oldal
... beneath the pall , Livid Infection's prey . The deep distress Of her , who best thy inmost bosom knew , To whom thy faith was vow'd , thy soul was true , What pow'rs of falt'ring language shall express ? As friendship bids , I feebly ...
... beneath the pall , Livid Infection's prey . The deep distress Of her , who best thy inmost bosom knew , To whom thy faith was vow'd , thy soul was true , What pow'rs of falt'ring language shall express ? As friendship bids , I feebly ...
37. oldal
... Beneath the pleasant morning's purple wing That fans us , while aloft the gay clouds shine ! Oh , ere the coming of the long cold night , RELIGION , may we bless thy purer light , That still shall warm us , when the tints decline O'er ...
... Beneath the pleasant morning's purple wing That fans us , while aloft the gay clouds shine ! Oh , ere the coming of the long cold night , RELIGION , may we bless thy purer light , That still shall warm us , when the tints decline O'er ...
43. oldal
... beneath the moon , Rememb'rance lends her soft uniting shades ; Some natural tears she drops , but wipes them soon : —- The world retires , and its dim prospect fades ! Airs of delight , that soothe the aching sense ; Waters of health ...
... beneath the moon , Rememb'rance lends her soft uniting shades ; Some natural tears she drops , but wipes them soon : —- The world retires , and its dim prospect fades ! Airs of delight , that soothe the aching sense ; Waters of health ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
amid BAMBOROUGH CASTLE beam beat beauteous behold beneath BENWELL breast bright brow bury'd cheer cliffs cold croud Cruttwell dark deep delight distant DONHEAD Ev'n fading fantastick farewell flow'r forsaken Friend of mankind gale gaze grey HEADLEY hear heard heart heav'n hills hope HOTWELLS HOWARD LAZARETTOS life's lonely look lov'd magick majestick MATLOCK meek Midsummer Night's Dream morn mournful murmuring musick musing night o'er OSTEND pain pale pass'd peace Pelew Islands pensive pity poor rejoice rocks romantick scenes seem'd Sesac shade shore sickness sigh sight silent sing skies smile song SONNET soothe sorrow sounds Southampton spirit steals strain stream sweet tear tempest tender thee thine thou dost thou hast thought tide tow'r TRINITY COLLEGE vale Virtue voice wand'ring wander'd wasted wave weary WENSBECK Whilst wild WINCHESTER COLLEGE WINCHESTER SCHOOL wind woods yonder youth
Népszerű szakaszok
176. oldal - Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year, most part, deform'd With dripping rains, or withered by a frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers.
18. oldal - Time ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, Lulling to sad repose the weary sense, The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last...
179. oldal - Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
163. oldal - How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet, now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on ! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.
179. oldal - Ah me ! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, cither it was different in blood ; Her.
13. oldal - Uplift their shadowing heads, and, at their feet, Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat, Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood, And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear, And o'er the distant billows the still Eve Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave Tomorrow...
176. oldal - To shake thy senate, and from heights sublime Of patriot eloquence to flash down fire Upon thy foes, was never meant my task : But I can feel thy fortunes, and partake Thy joys and sorrows, with as true a heart As any thund'rer there.
15. oldal - How sweet the tuneful bells responsive peal ! As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease, So piercing to my heart their force I feel ! And hark ! with lessening cadence now they fall, And now along the white and level tide They fling their melancholy music wide, Bidding me many a tender thought recall Of summer days, and those delightful years, When by my native streams...
137. oldal - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
34. oldal - I NEVER hear the sound of thy glad bells, Oxford, and chime harmonious, but I say, Sighing to think how time has worn away, Some spirit speaks in the sweet tone that swells, Heard after years of absence, from the vale Where Cherwell winds.