PoemsCarey and Hart, 1847 - 371 стор. |
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Результати 1-5 із 33
Сторінка 32
... thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit , and sad images Of the stern agony , and shroud , and pall , And breathless darkness , and the narrow house , Make thee to shudder , and grow sick at heart ; - Go ...
... thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit , and sad images Of the stern agony , and shroud , and pall , And breathless darkness , and the narrow house , Make thee to shudder , and grow sick at heart ; - Go ...
Сторінка 46
... thoughts that broke my peace , and I began To gather simples by the fountain's brink , And lose myself in day - dreams . While I stood In nature's loneliness , I was with one With whom I early grew familiar , one Who never had a frown ...
... thoughts that broke my peace , and I began To gather simples by the fountain's brink , And lose myself in day - dreams . While I stood In nature's loneliness , I was with one With whom I early grew familiar , one Who never had a frown ...
Сторінка 67
... thought that the stern power Whose fearful praise I sung , would try me thus Before the strain was ended . It must cease- For he is in his grave who taught my youth The art of verse , and in the bud of life Offered me to the muses . Oh ...
... thought that the stern power Whose fearful praise I sung , would try me thus Before the strain was ended . It must cease- For he is in his grave who taught my youth The art of verse , and in the bud of life Offered me to the muses . Oh ...
Сторінка 71
... thoughts will earthward stray , — To her who sits where thou wert laid , And weeps the hours away , Yet almost can her grief forget , To think that thou dost love her yet . " And thou , by one of those still lakes THE INDIAN GIRL'S ...
... thoughts will earthward stray , — To her who sits where thou wert laid , And weeps the hours away , Yet almost can her grief forget , To think that thou dost love her yet . " And thou , by one of those still lakes THE INDIAN GIRL'S ...
Сторінка 77
... thoughts from the woes of the past . And my bosom swelled with a mother's pride , As they stood in their beauty and strength by my side , Tall like their sire , with the princely grace Of his stately form , and the bloom of his face ...
... thoughts from the woes of the past . And my bosom swelled with a mother's pride , As they stood in their beauty and strength by my side , Tall like their sire , with the princely grace Of his stately form , and the bloom of his face ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
ages amid beam beauty beneath birds blood bloom blossoms blue boughs bound breath breeze bright bright land brook brow calm clouds cold dark day-dawn dead Deadly assassin death deep deer dwell earth fair flowers forest gaze gentle glad glen glide glorious glory grass grave Greece green groves guilt hand hear heart heaven hills hour hymn insect wings land leaves light look lovely stream maid maiden maize Maquon mighty morocco mountain murmur night o'er Oh father pass peace pleasant race rest rill Rizpah rocks round savannas shade shine sight silent skies sleep smile soft song sound sparkles of light spirit spring stream summer sweet swell tears thee thine thou art thou dost thou hast thou shalt thousand cheerful trees tribes vale voice wandering warrior watch weep wild wind-flower winds wings woods youth youthful voices
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 39 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
Сторінка 31 - Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again...
Сторінка 31 - To be a brother to the insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Сторінка 129 - Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summit of these trees In music ; thou art in the cooler breath That from the inmost darkness of the place Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee.
Сторінка 32 - His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Сторінка 30 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And gentle sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Сторінка 205 - God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth ! Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest, Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest, Summoning from the...
Сторінка 172 - Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, When our mother Nature laughs around ; When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground ? There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, And the gossip of swallows through all the sky ; The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den, And the wilding bee hums merrily by.
Сторінка 32 - Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings, yet the dead are there...
Сторінка 151 - THE melancholy days are come, The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds and naked woods, And meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, The autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, And to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, And from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow Through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...