A New Library of Poetry and Song, 2. kötetWilliam Cullen Bryant J. B. Ford, 1877 - 934 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 82 találatból.
459. oldal
... never spake he more , But " Pass thou first , thou dauntless heart , As thou wert wont of yore ! " The roar of fight rose fiercer yet , And heavier still the stour , Till the spears of Spain came shivering in , And swept away the Moor ...
... never spake he more , But " Pass thou first , thou dauntless heart , As thou wert wont of yore ! " The roar of fight rose fiercer yet , And heavier still the stour , Till the spears of Spain came shivering in , And swept away the Moor ...
463. oldal
... Never was a fiercer , braver , Than that charge at Balaklava , On the battle's bloody marge ! All the day the Russian columns , Fortress huge , and blazing banks , Poured their dread destructive volumes On the French and English ranks ...
... Never was a fiercer , braver , Than that charge at Balaklava , On the battle's bloody marge ! All the day the Russian columns , Fortress huge , and blazing banks , Poured their dread destructive volumes On the French and English ranks ...
465. oldal
... Never shall do them wrong . O , to the living few , Soldiers , be just and true ! Hail them as comrades tried ; Fight with them side by side ; Never , in field or tent , Scorn the black regiment ! - GEORGE HENRY BOKER . OF THE WARRES IN ...
... Never shall do them wrong . O , to the living few , Soldiers , be just and true ! Hail them as comrades tried ; Fight with them side by side ; Never , in field or tent , Scorn the black regiment ! - GEORGE HENRY BOKER . OF THE WARRES IN ...
470. oldal
... Never till I saw thee that moment was I glad ! Aye sooner sud thou dee before thy mother's ee ' Than a man o ' the clan sud hae stept out but thee ! An ' sae I cry to God — while the hens cackle a ' , An ' whiddie , whuddie , whaddie ...
... Never till I saw thee that moment was I glad ! Aye sooner sud thou dee before thy mother's ee ' Than a man o ' the clan sud hae stept out but thee ! An ' sae I cry to God — while the hens cackle a ' , An ' whiddie , whuddie , whaddie ...
473. oldal
... never point the finger of disdain , And say there's one that ran away when our good lords were slain ! - you'll fill his - I leave Diego in your care , father's place ; Strike , strike the spur , and never spare , blessing on your Grace ...
... never point the finger of disdain , And say there's one that ran away when our good lords were slain ! - you'll fill his - I leave Diego in your care , father's place ; Strike , strike the spur , and never spare , blessing on your Grace ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ALEXANDER POPE ALFRED TENNYSON Anne Hathaway arms beauty bells BEN JONSON beneath blessed blood blow blue brave breast breath bright brow clouds cried crown dark dead dear death Deborah Lee deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fame fear fell FITZ-GREENE HALLECK flowers frae gazed glory gold grace grave gray green hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER king land Lars Porsena light lips live look Lord LORD BYRON moon morning ne'er never nevermore night o'er Osawatomie peace roar ROBERT BURNS rock rose round shine shore silent sing sleep smile song soul sound stars steed stood stream sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou thought thunder toil voice wave wild WILLIAM COWPER wind wings wonder
Népszerű szakaszok
626. oldal - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
815. oldal - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
556. oldal - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
783. oldal - Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water everywhere Nor any drop to drink.
709. oldal - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-brier, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
461. oldal - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet — But hark!
818. oldal - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent, and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
723. oldal - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
709. oldal - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go, On the light fantastic toe...
657. oldal - Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling...