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 74 találatból.
21. oldal
... waves came o'er the broken ship , Till a ' her sides were torn . O laith , laith were our guid Scots lords To weet their leathern shoon , But lang ere a ' the play was o'er , They wat their heads abune . O lang , lang may the ladies sit ...
... waves came o'er the broken ship , Till a ' her sides were torn . O laith , laith were our guid Scots lords To weet their leathern shoon , But lang ere a ' the play was o'er , They wat their heads abune . O lang , lang may the ladies sit ...
44. oldal
... waves one might the bottom see , All pavd beneath with jaspar shining bright , That seemd the fountaine in that sea did sayle upright . Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound Of all that mote delight a daintie ear , Such as attonce ...
... waves one might the bottom see , All pavd beneath with jaspar shining bright , That seemd the fountaine in that sea did sayle upright . Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound Of all that mote delight a daintie ear , Such as attonce ...
106. oldal
... wave your tops , ye pines , With every plant , in sign of worship wave . Fountains , and ye that warble , as ye flow , Melodious murmurs , warbling tune his praise . Join voices , all ye living souls ; ye birds , That singing up to ...
... wave your tops , ye pines , With every plant , in sign of worship wave . Fountains , and ye that warble , as ye flow , Melodious murmurs , warbling tune his praise . Join voices , all ye living souls ; ye birds , That singing up to ...
115. oldal
... Wave at his wings in aery stream Of lively portraiture displayed Softly on my eyelids laid . And , as I wake , sweet music breathe Above , about , or underneath , Sent by some spirit to mortals good , Or the unseen genius of the wood ...
... Wave at his wings in aery stream Of lively portraiture displayed Softly on my eyelids laid . And , as I wake , sweet music breathe Above , about , or underneath , Sent by some spirit to mortals good , Or the unseen genius of the wood ...
130. oldal
... wave , Like profuse kings , resumes the wealth he gave . No unexpected inundations spoil The mower's hopes , or mock the ploughman's toil ; But godlike his unwearied bounty flows ; First loves to do , then loves the good he does . Nor ...
... wave , Like profuse kings , resumes the wealth he gave . No unexpected inundations spoil The mower's hopes , or mock the ploughman's toil ; But godlike his unwearied bounty flows ; First loves to do , then loves the good he does . Nor ...
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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...