Little Masterpieces of English Poetry, Том 3Henry Van Dyke Doubleday, Page, 1905 |
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beauty bells birds blow bonnie bosom breast breath breeze bright cheek cloud County Guy Dark Rosaleen dear death deep delight doth dream earth eyes faint fair farewell fear flowers glory golden green hame Hark hath hear heart heaven Heigh Henry Wadsworth Longfellow kiss ladies land light lips live look Lord Tennyson love thee Love's lover Mary merry moon morning mountain ne'er nest never night nonny o'er Percy Bysshe Shelley Ralph Waldo Emerson Richard Lovelace Robert Browning Robert Burns Robert Herrick rose Say nay shine shore sighs silent sing skies sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit spring star-spangled banner stars stream sweet tears tell thine Thomas Thomas Campion Thomas Hood thou art thoughts Titmouse tree voice wanton waves weary weep wild William Shakespeare wilt thou leave wind wings youth
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Сторінка 214 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Сторінка 246 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me : — ' Pipe a song about a lamb : ' So I piped with merry cheer. ' Piper, pipe that song again : ' So I piped ; he wept to hear.
Сторінка 176 - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
Сторінка 249 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep,...
Сторінка 42 - And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
Сторінка 314 - Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon. My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Сторінка 132 - ON A GIRDLE THAT which her slender waist confined, Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer; My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
Сторінка 289 - Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat — Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us, Lost all the others, she lets us devote ; They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver, So much was theirs who so little allowed : How all our copper had gone for his service ! Rags — were they purple, his heart had been proud ! We that had loved him so, followed him...
Сторінка 90 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine ; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And 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.
Сторінка 72 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.