Choice poems and lyrics, for study and delight, ed. by J.T. Ashby1879 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 46 találatból.
. oldal
... poet : born , 1843 . POETRY has been to me ' its own exceeding great reward ; ' it has soothed my afflictions ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to ...
... poet : born , 1843 . POETRY has been to me ' its own exceeding great reward ; ' it has soothed my afflictions ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to ...
. oldal
... poet : born , 1843 . POETRY has been to me ' its own exceeding great reward ; ' it has soothed my afflictions ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to ...
... poet : born , 1843 . POETRY has been to me ' its own exceeding great reward ; ' it has soothed my afflictions ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to ...
. oldal
... poet , —that is , of a poet worthy to sit in the seat of Shakspere , of Milton , of Shelley , or of Keats . It is alleged that there is more of polish than of passion- more of labour than of inspiration in the work of the poets of the ...
... poet , —that is , of a poet worthy to sit in the seat of Shakspere , of Milton , of Shelley , or of Keats . It is alleged that there is more of polish than of passion- more of labour than of inspiration in the work of the poets of the ...
. oldal
... Poet's Awakening 120. The Haunted Palace 121. A Musical Instrument 122. Minstrel's Song in Ella NARRATIVE AND PATHETIC . 123. Napoleon and the Sailor 124. In School - days 125. The Turn - stile 126. Hannah Binding Shoes Hunt Blake ...
... Poet's Awakening 120. The Haunted Palace 121. A Musical Instrument 122. Minstrel's Song in Ella NARRATIVE AND PATHETIC . 123. Napoleon and the Sailor 124. In School - days 125. The Turn - stile 126. Hannah Binding Shoes Hunt Blake ...
1. oldal
... poet . He illus- trated his own works , and many others , by hand - coloured etchings and copper - plate engravings of weird and fanciful design . There was a touch of insanity in his nature which showed itself in nearly all his work ...
... poet . He illus- trated his own works , and many others , by hand - coloured etchings and copper - plate engravings of weird and fanciful design . There was a touch of insanity in his nature which showed itself in nearly all his work ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Choice Poems And Lyrics, For Study And Delight, Ed. By J.t. Ashby Choice Poems Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2019 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
American poet Bay of Spezia beautiful beneath Bernard Barton binding shoes birds bless bloom blue born boughs bowers breast breath breeze bright Charles Kingsley cheerful child clouds cool dark dead deep delight dost doth dream earth eyes fair fear feel Felicia Dorothea Hemans flow flowers grass green happy hath hear heard heart heaven Henry Wadsworth Longfellow hill hold in fee Holly Tree HYMN James Russell Lowell John Keble lamb leaves life's light living man's son inherits merry morning mountain murmur Nathaniel Parker Willis never night Nightingale o'er poems poetry river round Samuel Lover scorn shade shine silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring stars stream summer sweet thee There's thine things Thomas Hood thou thought vale verse voice wandering waves wild William Cullen Bryant wind wings woods youth
Népszerű szakaszok
169. oldal - Slowly and sadly we laid him down From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory!
48. oldal - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower...
81. oldal - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean,...
90. oldal - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
8. oldal - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen; Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown . For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed...
116. oldal - A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Slippers, lined choicely for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw, and ivy buds, With coral clasps, and amber studs; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love.
75. oldal - QUEEN and Huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space, to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st...
12. oldal - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on Kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
13. oldal - We have not wings, we cannot soar ; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time.
90. oldal - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest — but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.