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Abbey American ancient appearance arches banks battle beautiful blue bridge called castle church cottage covered delight distance England English entered famous feeling feet five France French gardens gave give green groves half hand heard hills hour hundred kind king lady lake land landscape leave letters light living London look Lord lovely miles monument morning mountains Nature never night objects ocean once painted palace Paris Park passed picture poet pointed Queen railway remains remarkable rising road rock romantic round ruins runs scene scenery Scotland seat seemed seen ship side sight splendid stands stone stood strange stranger stream street surprise things thought thousand took tower town travellers trees turned walk walls whole wide winding wonder
Сторінка 46 - ... made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen ; and poured out the changers...
Сторінка 135 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve ; And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind ! we are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Сторінка 61 - With head up-raised, and look intent, And eye and ear attentive bent, And locks flung back, and lips apart, Like monument of Grecian art, In listening mood, she seemed to stand The guardian Naiad of the strand.
Сторінка 151 - Now to the sister hills-j- that skirt her plain, To lofty Harrow now, and now to where Majestic Windsor lifts his princely brow. In lovely contrast to this glorious view, Calmly magnificent, then will we turn To where the silver Thames first rural grows.
Сторінка 193 - Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear, That mourns thy exit from a world like this ; Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, And stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss • No more confined to grov'ling scenes of night, No more a tenant pent in mortal clay, Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight, And trace thy journey to the realms of day.
Сторінка 43 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Сторінка 85 - If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moonlight; F»r the gay "beams .of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruina gray.
Сторінка 101 - DAY set on Norham's castled steep,* And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep, And Cheviot's mountains lone : The battled towers, the donjon keep,* The loophole grates, where captives weep, The flanking walls that round it sweep, In yellow lustre shone.
Сторінка 85 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die...