Folk SongsJohn Williamson Palmer Charles Scribner, 1861 - 466 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 55 találatból.
xvii. oldal
... the heat o ' the sun , ANONYMOUS . 169 YORK AND LANCASTER . If this fair rose offend thy sight , THE SONG OF THE SHIRT ... With fingers weary and worn , . HOOD 170 ELEGY ... CONTENTS . PAGE .KING 174 Sleep on , c xvii.
... the heat o ' the sun , ANONYMOUS . 169 YORK AND LANCASTER . If this fair rose offend thy sight , THE SONG OF THE SHIRT ... With fingers weary and worn , . HOOD 170 ELEGY ... CONTENTS . PAGE .KING 174 Sleep on , c xvii.
xviii. oldal
John Williamson Palmer. ELEGY ... CONTENTS . PAGE .KING 174 Sleep on , my love , in thy cold bed , THE DEATH - BED . · HOOD .... We watched her breathing through the night , AULD ROBIN GRAY ...... ..LINDSAY . When the sheep are in the ...
John Williamson Palmer. ELEGY ... CONTENTS . PAGE .KING 174 Sleep on , my love , in thy cold bed , THE DEATH - BED . · HOOD .... We watched her breathing through the night , AULD ROBIN GRAY ...... ..LINDSAY . When the sheep are in the ...
xxii. oldal
... Sleep ! THE MOTHER'S LAST SONG ......... . The ghostly winds are blowing ; AT THE CHURCH GATE .. Although I enter not , PROCTER . 306 THACKERAY 307 SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT ....... WORDSWORTH ........ 308 THE MOTHER NIGHTINGALE I ...
... Sleep ! THE MOTHER'S LAST SONG ......... . The ghostly winds are blowing ; AT THE CHURCH GATE .. Although I enter not , PROCTER . 306 THACKERAY 307 SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT ....... WORDSWORTH ........ 308 THE MOTHER NIGHTINGALE I ...
8. oldal
... Sleep , mystic sleep , for many a year has bound him , Yet his beauty , like a statue's , pale and fair , is undecayed . When will he awaken ? When will he awaken ? a loud voice hath been crying Night after night - and the cry has been ...
... Sleep , mystic sleep , for many a year has bound him , Yet his beauty , like a statue's , pale and fair , is undecayed . When will he awaken ? When will he awaken ? a loud voice hath been crying Night after night - and the cry has been ...
9. oldal
John Williamson Palmer. THE AWAKENING OF ENDYMION . Beautiful the sleep that she has watched untiring , Lighted up with visions from yonder radiant sky , Full of an immortal's glorious inspiring , Softened by a woman's meek and loving ...
John Williamson Palmer. THE AWAKENING OF ENDYMION . Beautiful the sleep that she has watched untiring , Lighted up with visions from yonder radiant sky , Full of an immortal's glorious inspiring , Softened by a woman's meek and loving ...
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angels beautiful bells beneath bird blessed boys break breast breath bright bring brow cheek child close cold comes dead dear Death deep door dream eyes face fair fear feel feet flowers friends give gold gone grave green grow hair hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour JOHN king kiss knew land leaves light lips live look Mary meet moon morning never night o'er once pale passed past peace poor rest river rose round sail seemed shine sighs silent sing sleep smile soft SONG soon soul sound spirit stand stars Summer sweet tears tell thee There's thine thing thou thought tree true turn Twas voice watch weary wild wind young youth
Népszerű szakaszok
168. oldal - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
243. oldal - ... where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light! The lilacs where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birth-day,— The tree is living yet!
172. oldal - Stitch — stitch — stitch — In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt! "But why do I talk of Death? That phantom of grisly bone. I hardly fear his terrible shape, It seems so like my own — It seems so like my own, Because of the fasts I keep; O God!
60. oldal - Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even God's providence Seeming estranged. Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river; Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be hurled — Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world!
181. oldal - Forward, the Light Brigade ! Charge for the guns ! " he said : Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade...
89. oldal - That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing! And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness it rose from the well; The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well.
262. oldal - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon!
302. oldal - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door ; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore — What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
163. oldal - With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love...
308. oldal - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.