Select specimens of English poetryLongman, Brown, Green, & Longmans, 1856 |
Részletek a könyvből
6 - 10 találat összesen 66 találatból.
32. oldal
... hear the snow - falls roar , Devastating all before . But a brighter vision breaks O'er Canadian woods and lakes ; -These my spirit soon forsakes , Land of exiled Liberty , Where our fathers once were free , Brave New England , hail to ...
... hear the snow - falls roar , Devastating all before . But a brighter vision breaks O'er Canadian woods and lakes ; -These my spirit soon forsakes , Land of exiled Liberty , Where our fathers once were free , Brave New England , hail to ...
35. oldal
... er the wond'rous sky . I long to see those icebergs vast , With heads all crowned with snow ; Whose green roots sleep in the awful deep , Two hundred fathoms low ! I long to hear the thund'ring crash Of their terrific.
... er the wond'rous sky . I long to see those icebergs vast , With heads all crowned with snow ; Whose green roots sleep in the awful deep , Two hundred fathoms low ! I long to hear the thund'ring crash Of their terrific.
36. oldal
Edward Hughes. I long to hear the thund'ring crash Of their terrific fall , And the echoes from a thousand cliffs , Like lonely voices call . There shall we see the fierce white bear , The sleepy seals aground , And the spouting whales ...
Edward Hughes. I long to hear the thund'ring crash Of their terrific fall , And the echoes from a thousand cliffs , Like lonely voices call . There shall we see the fierce white bear , The sleepy seals aground , And the spouting whales ...
41. oldal
... hear the cherub chorus of their mirth , Undamped by dread that want may e'er unhouse , Or servile misery knit those smiling brows ; The pride to rear an independent shed , And give the lips we love unborrowed bread ; To see a world ...
... hear the cherub chorus of their mirth , Undamped by dread that want may e'er unhouse , Or servile misery knit those smiling brows ; The pride to rear an independent shed , And give the lips we love unborrowed bread ; To see a world ...
48. oldal
... hear it ? —No ; ' twas but the wind , Or the car rattling o'er the stony street ; On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ! No sleep till morn when youth and pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying feet- But , hark ...
... hear it ? —No ; ' twas but the wind , Or the car rattling o'er the stony street ; On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ! No sleep till morn when youth and pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying feet- But , hark ...
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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.