Gleanings from the English poets, Chaucer to Tennyson, with biogr. notices of the authors [by R. Inglis].1862 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 73 találatból.
xi. oldal
... . 373 The Skylark , 376 SIR WALTER SCOTT , 1771-1832 . The Minstrel , 378 Melrose Abbey , 378 · Love of Country , Hymn for the Dead , Tantallon Castle , 379 380 380 Death of Marmion , SIR WALTER SCOTT - continued . CONTENTS . xi.
... . 373 The Skylark , 376 SIR WALTER SCOTT , 1771-1832 . The Minstrel , 378 Melrose Abbey , 378 · Love of Country , Hymn for the Dead , Tantallon Castle , 379 380 380 Death of Marmion , SIR WALTER SCOTT - continued . CONTENTS . xi.
13. oldal
... dead , She would have but sweet Willie Alane , At Christ's Kirk of the Green that day . Blind Harry . death About 1450 . Of this Scottish minstrel poet little is known , but that he was blind from his earliest years , and that he gained ...
... dead , She would have but sweet Willie Alane , At Christ's Kirk of the Green that day . Blind Harry . death About 1450 . Of this Scottish minstrel poet little is known , but that he was blind from his earliest years , and that he gained ...
19. oldal
... dead man by the hand ; And said , " Earl Douglas , for thy life Would I had lost my land . In truth ! my very heart doth bleed With sorrow for thy sake ; For sure a more redoubted knight Mischance did never take . " A knight amongst the ...
... dead man by the hand ; And said , " Earl Douglas , for thy life Would I had lost my land . In truth ! my very heart doth bleed With sorrow for thy sake ; For sure a more redoubted knight Mischance did never take . " A knight amongst the ...
39. oldal
... dead , as living ever , him adored : Upon his shield the like was also scored , For soveraine hope , which in his helpe he had . Right faithfull , true he was in deede and word ; But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad ; Yet nothing ...
... dead , as living ever , him adored : Upon his shield the like was also scored , For soveraine hope , which in his helpe he had . Right faithfull , true he was in deede and word ; But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad ; Yet nothing ...
47. oldal
... dead yet ever - dying paine . Till that great Lord of Love , which him at first Made of meere love , and after liked well , Seeing him lie like creature long accurst In that deep horror of despeyred Hell , Him , wretch , in doole would ...
... dead yet ever - dying paine . Till that great Lord of Love , which him at first Made of meere love , and after liked well , Seeing him lie like creature long accurst In that deep horror of despeyred Hell , Him , wretch , in doole would ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
art thou bawbee beauty beneath blest Born Braes breast breath bright Busk clouds Cockpen cried dark dead dear death deep delight Died doth dread earth Edinburgh Review eternal eyes fair falcon crest fame father fear flowers frae friends gazed glory grace grave green happy harp hast hath hear heart heaven hill hour HYMN Kilmeny land light live Lochaber look Lord maun mind morning mountains Nature's ne'er never night nymph o'er Paradise Lost peace pleasure poems poet poetry praise pride published rest rise Robert Southey Robin Gray rose round Rule Britannia Scotland Scottish shade shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought trembling Twas vale voice wandering wave weary weep wild wind wings Yarrow youth
Népszerű szakaszok
248. oldal - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
425. oldal - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes By the deep Sea, and music in its roar : I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.
48. oldal - ALL the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
226. oldal - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
46. oldal - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice...
248. oldal - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
77. oldal - When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.
49. 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.
54. oldal - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
229. oldal - THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth a Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown : fair Science...