Select specimens of English poetryLongman, Brown, Green, & Longmans, 1856 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 97 találatból.
5. oldal
... dark as winter was the flow Of Iser , rolling rapidly . But Linden show'd another sight , When the drum beat at dead of night , Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery . By torch and trumpet - sound array'd , Each ...
... dark as winter was the flow Of Iser , rolling rapidly . But Linden show'd another sight , When the drum beat at dead of night , Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery . By torch and trumpet - sound array'd , Each ...
10. oldal
... Darkness in chieftain's hall ! Darkness in peasant's cot ! While freedom , under that shadowy pall , Sat mourning o'er her lot . Oh ! the fireside's peace we well may prize For blood hath flowed like rain , Pour'd forth to make sweet ...
... Darkness in chieftain's hall ! Darkness in peasant's cot ! While freedom , under that shadowy pall , Sat mourning o'er her lot . Oh ! the fireside's peace we well may prize For blood hath flowed like rain , Pour'd forth to make sweet ...
15. oldal
... dark , is gone , - As an angel's wing , through an open cloud , Is seen , and then withdrawn . The Pilgrim exile , -sainted name ! The hill , whose icy brow Rejoiced when he came , in the morning's flame , In the morning's flame burns ...
... dark , is gone , - As an angel's wing , through an open cloud , Is seen , and then withdrawn . The Pilgrim exile , -sainted name ! The hill , whose icy brow Rejoiced when he came , in the morning's flame , In the morning's flame burns ...
19. oldal
... : Derivations . Verge . Requiem . Ascending . Canopied . Extended . Aisle . Mute . Obsequies . Yell . Defend . Lav . Start . Yielded . Mighty . Still . Huge . Faithful . Meet . Stately , I CLIMBED the dark brow of the mighty Hellvellyn ,
... : Derivations . Verge . Requiem . Ascending . Canopied . Extended . Aisle . Mute . Obsequies . Yell . Defend . Lav . Start . Yielded . Mighty . Still . Huge . Faithful . Meet . Stately , I CLIMBED the dark brow of the mighty Hellvellyn ,
20. oldal
... Dark - green was that spot mid the brown mountain - heather , Where the pilgrim of nature ' lay stretched in decay ; Like the corpse of an outcast abandoned to weather , Till the mountain - winds wasted the tenantless clay . Nor yet ...
... Dark - green was that spot mid the brown mountain - heather , Where the pilgrim of nature ' lay stretched in decay ; Like the corpse of an outcast abandoned to weather , Till the mountain - winds wasted the tenantless clay . Nor yet ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Arouse thee BARRY CORNWALL battle BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE beauty beneath BERNARD BARTON birds bless blow brave breast breath bright cheer Cleon clouds dark dead death deep delight Derivations doth dread dream earth ELIZA COOK ellipsis England English Poetry Etymology father fear feel flowers geography give glorious glory glow grave green Greenwich Hospital hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour human HUMPHREY GILBERT John Herschel king labour land light live look Lord mighty mind morning mountains nature never night noble o'er ocean Patrick Spence peace pleasure Pompey prayer rocks round RUNNEMEDE sail Samian wine shine ship shore sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star storm sweet Syntax tear tempest thine things thought toil Twas voice waves wild wind wings words youth
Népszerű szakaszok
49. oldal - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
194. oldal - And sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow ! The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave : For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave. Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow, — While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow.
39. oldal - And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not — his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away...
281. 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.
274. oldal - Man that is born of a woman Is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down : He fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.
337. oldal - For a thousand years in thy sight Are but as yesterday when it is past, And as a watch in the night. Thou carriest them away as with a flood ; they are as a sleep : In the morning they are like grass which groweth up. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up ; In the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
352. oldal - And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow : and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish ? 39 And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.
75. oldal - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
124. oldal - It sounds to him like her mother's voice Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
117. oldal - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.