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 32 találatból.
5. oldal
... sounds lull her , as she sinks to sleep , Like melodies which mourn upon the lyre , Wak'd by the breeze , and , as they mourn , expire . SONNET II . AT BAMBOROUGH CASTLE . YE holy Towers Part First . PART FIRST PAGE Written at Tinemouth ...
... sounds lull her , as she sinks to sleep , Like melodies which mourn upon the lyre , Wak'd by the breeze , and , as they mourn , expire . SONNET II . AT BAMBOROUGH CASTLE . YE holy Towers Part First . PART FIRST PAGE Written at Tinemouth ...
15. oldal
... of their mingling chime First wak'd my wond'ring childhood into tears ! But seeming now , when all those days are o'er , The sounds of joy once heard , and heard no more . SONNET XII . ON THE RIVER RHINE . " TWAS SONNETS . 15.
... of their mingling chime First wak'd my wond'ring childhood into tears ! But seeming now , when all those days are o'er , The sounds of joy once heard , and heard no more . SONNET XII . ON THE RIVER RHINE . " TWAS SONNETS . 15.
19. oldal
... sounds to the pipe of mirth . But them vain hope , and easy youth beguiles , And soon a longing look , like me , they cast Back on the pleasing prospect of the past : Yet Fancy points where still far onward smiles Some sunny spot , and ...
... sounds to the pipe of mirth . But them vain hope , and easy youth beguiles , And soon a longing look , like me , they cast Back on the pleasing prospect of the past : Yet Fancy points where still far onward smiles Some sunny spot , and ...
29. oldal
... sounds Of yesterday ! yet in my breast I keep Such recollections , painful though they seem , And hours of joy retrace , till from my dream I wake , and find them not : then I could weep To think that Time so soon each sweet devours ...
... sounds Of yesterday ! yet in my breast I keep Such recollections , painful though they seem , And hours of joy retrace , till from my dream I wake , and find them not : then I could weep To think that Time so soon each sweet devours ...
34. oldal
William Lisle Bowles. SONNET XXVII . ON REVISITING OXFORD . 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 ...
William Lisle Bowles. SONNET XXVII . ON REVISITING OXFORD . 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 ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
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.