Masterpieces of the World's Best Literature, 5. kötetJeannette Leonard Gilder Current Literature Publishing Company, 1905 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 20 találatból.
41. oldal
... grass in the reets , enough to betoken quiet without pro- g decay , I think I could go to pieces , after e's work were done , in one of those tranquil as sweetly as in any cradle that an old man rocked to sleep in . I visit such spots ...
... grass in the reets , enough to betoken quiet without pro- g decay , I think I could go to pieces , after e's work were done , in one of those tranquil as sweetly as in any cradle that an old man rocked to sleep in . I visit such spots ...
144. oldal
... grasses mellow , Came dow The " Brid Then some And all To where t And where They sayde Mellow , mellow ; What dang your cowslips , cowslips yellow ; They ring Hollow , hollow ; e stalks of parsley hollow , e Whitefoot , come uppe ...
... grasses mellow , Came dow The " Brid Then some And all To where t And where They sayde Mellow , mellow ; What dang your cowslips , cowslips yellow ; They ring Hollow , hollow ; e stalks of parsley hollow , e Whitefoot , come uppe ...
146. oldal
... grasses at oure feet : ad hardly time to flee brake against the knee , e world was in the sea . Stream A lurid m And awes That in They ran From r And I - n And y And yet " O came 0 lost ! n And did Thou a The wate Ere ye Thy pret The ...
... grasses at oure feet : ad hardly time to flee brake against the knee , e world was in the sea . Stream A lurid m And awes That in They ran From r And I - n And y And yet " O came 0 lost ! n And did Thou a The wate Ere ye Thy pret The ...
147. oldal
... grass , ebbe swept out the flocks to sea ; ebbe and flow , alas ! nye more than myne and mee : will mourn his own ( she saith ) , eeter woman ne'er drew breath y sonne's wife , Elizabeth . 1 never hear her more e reedy Lindis shore , a ...
... grass , ebbe swept out the flocks to sea ; ebbe and flow , alas ! nye more than myne and mee : will mourn his own ( she saith ) , eeter woman ne'er drew breath y sonne's wife , Elizabeth . 1 never hear her more e reedy Lindis shore , a ...
148. oldal
... grasses mellow , Mellow , mellow ; cowslips , cowslips yellow ; Whitefoot , come uppe Lightfoot ; - pipes of parsley ... grass is deep ? How good " Albeit Oh ! well is Draws or Hark ! har Her tea " Take now And tem Feed them white lady ...
... grasses mellow , Mellow , mellow ; cowslips , cowslips yellow ; Whitefoot , come uppe Lightfoot ; - pipes of parsley ... grass is deep ? How good " Albeit Oh ! well is Draws or Hark ! har Her tea " Take now And tem Feed them white lady ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ball beauty bells bosom called Caudle charm Clopin cold cubits dear death door DOUGLAS WILLIAM JERROLD East eyes Falstaff feel feet fire Fort Christina give goal grass grave Gringoire hall hand happy Harris head hear heard heart heaven Heinrich Heine Helmer Jean Ingelow John Keats keep kick king lady Libya living look lord lullaby mind Moorish morning nature never night Nora o'er old Brooke once passed play players-up poet Pontarlier rain RICHARD JEFFERIES round Samuel Johnson school-house scrummage seemed Shakespeare side sleep song soul sweet talk tell thee there's things Thomas Hood Thomas Lucy thou thought Torvald tower town trees Tunis umbrella voice wall Washington Irving wave wife wind young
Népszerű szakaszok
303. oldal - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft ; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
22. oldal - Gentlemen may cry peace, peace, but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. Our brethren are already in the field. Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!
298. oldal - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
36. oldal - AY, TEAR her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky ; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar ; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below.
299. oldal - The weariness, the fever, and the fret, Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
300. oldal - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream ? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
298. oldal - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness...
68. oldal - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword. His truth is marching on.
286. oldal - Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help...
271. oldal - In the writings of other poets a character is too often an individual ; in those of Shakespeare it is commonly a species.