Ballads and LyricsHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1880 - 394 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 47 találatból.
27. oldal
... wild waves whist , Foot it featly here and there ; And , sweet sprites , the burthen bear . Burthen : Hark , hark ! Bow - wow . The watch - dogs bark : Bow - wow . Hark , hark ! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry , Cock - a ...
... wild waves whist , Foot it featly here and there ; And , sweet sprites , the burthen bear . Burthen : Hark , hark ! Bow - wow . The watch - dogs bark : Bow - wow . Hark , hark ! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry , Cock - a ...
48. oldal
... wild . And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs Married to immortal verse , Such as the meeting soul may pierce In notes , with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out , With wanton heed and giddy cunning ...
... wild . And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs Married to immortal verse , Such as the meeting soul may pierce In notes , with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out , With wanton heed and giddy cunning ...
70. oldal
... wild dismay , As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome march his long array . Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance ; " To arms ! ” cried Mortimer , and couched his quiver . ing lance . ing in 1741 ...
... wild dismay , As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome march his long array . Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance ; " To arms ! ” cried Mortimer , and couched his quiver . ing lance . ing in 1741 ...
86. oldal
... wild - hanging woods ; Farewell to the torrents and loud - pouring floods . My heart's in the Highlands , my heart is not here , My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer : Chasing the wild deer , and following the roe My heart's ...
... wild - hanging woods ; Farewell to the torrents and loud - pouring floods . My heart's in the Highlands , my heart is not here , My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer : Chasing the wild deer , and following the roe My heart's ...
91. oldal
... trundling mop , Or a wild - goose at play . At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband , wondering much To see how he did ride . Stop , stop , John Gilpin ! Here's the house THE HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN . 91.
... trundling mop , Or a wild - goose at play . At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband , wondering much To see how he did ride . Stop , stop , John Gilpin ! Here's the house THE HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN . 91.
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Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ALFRED TENNYSON Auf Wiedersehen banner battle bells beneath Bingen blessed blood blow Bonny Dundee born brave breast breath bright brow cried Cusha dark dead dear death deep died door dream earth England eyes fair fame father fell gallant gaze Gilpin gleam glory grave gray hand hath hear heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW Highlands hills horse Inchcape Rock J. G. LOCKHART John King lady land Lars Porsena light lips looked Lord LORD BYRON loud maiden morning mountain never night Norsemen o'er OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES pale pibroch poems Quoth ride Ring ROBERT BURNS rock rode rose round Samian wine shore silent sing SIR WALTER SCOTT smile snow song sorrow soul sound spake steed stood storm sweet sword tears tell tempest thee There's thet thou tide tower town Victor Galbraith voice waves wild wind
Népszerű szakaszok
40. oldal - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
67. oldal - Th' applause of list'ning senates to command. The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes.
54. oldal - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
46. 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 sweetbriar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
31. oldal - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
279. oldal - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of death Rode the six hundred. " Cannon to right of them ; Cannon to left of them; Cannon in front of them, Volley'd and thunder*d.
142. oldal - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
116. oldal - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
42. oldal - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
176. oldal - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.