The golden treasury: selected from the best songs and lyrical poems in the English language and arranged with notes by Francis T. Palgrave ... Revised and enlargedMacmillan & Company, limited, 1896 - 387 стор. |
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Сторінка 9
... close corner of my brain : There I embrace and kiss her ; And so I both enjoy and miss her . J. Donne ( ? ) XIII VIA AMORIS High - way , since you my chief Parnassus be , And that my Muse , to some ears not unsweet , Tenpers her words ...
... close corner of my brain : There I embrace and kiss her ; And so I both enjoy and miss her . J. Donne ( ? ) XIII VIA AMORIS High - way , since you my chief Parnassus be , And that my Muse , to some ears not unsweet , Tenpers her words ...
Сторінка 32
... close - eyed weeps : Dreams often more than waking passions move . Plead , Sleep , my cause , and make her soft like thee : That she in peace may wake and pity me . T. Campion LIII THE UNFAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS While that the sun with his ...
... close - eyed weeps : Dreams often more than waking passions move . Plead , Sleep , my cause , and make her soft like thee : That she in peace may wake and pity me . T. Campion LIII THE UNFAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS While that the sun with his ...
Сторінка 59
... close . Nature , that heard such sound Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling , Now was almost won To think her part was done , And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; She knew such harmony alone ...
... close . Nature , that heard such sound Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling , Now was almost won To think her part was done , And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; She knew such harmony alone ...
Сторінка 81
... close : Bless us then with wished sight , Goddess excellently bright . Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal - shining quiver ; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe , how short soever : Thou that mak'st a day of night Goddess ...
... close : Bless us then with wished sight , Goddess excellently bright . Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal - shining quiver ; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe , how short soever : Thou that mak'st a day of night Goddess ...
Сторінка 84
... ' And some do suppose him , Poor thing , to be blind ; But if ne'er so close ye wall him , Do the best that you may , Blind love , if so ye call him , Will find out his way . You may train the eagle To stoop to your fist 84 Book.
... ' And some do suppose him , Poor thing , to be blind ; But if ne'er so close ye wall him , Do the best that you may , Blind love , if so ye call him , Will find out his way . You may train the eagle To stoop to your fist 84 Book.
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Arethuse beauty beneath birds bonnie bower breast breath bright Brignall brow clouds County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dream earth ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA eyes F. T. PALGRAVE fair Fancy fear flowers frae FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE gentle glory Gray green H. F. Lyte happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill kiss leaves light live look'd Lord Lord Byron Love's lover Lycidas lyre LYRICAL maid MATTHEW ARNOLD mind morn mountains Muse ne'er never night Nymph o'er P. B. Shelley pale passion pleasure poem Poetry poets rose round seem'd shade Shakespeare sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spring star stream sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou art thought tree Twas voice waly waly wanton waves weep wild winds wings Wordsworth Yarrow youth
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Сторінка 204 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes ; Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Сторінка 326 - given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will be howling at all hours And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers. For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; It moves us not.—Great God ! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled
Сторінка 65 - roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heaven. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow A hundred-fold, who, having learnt Thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
Сторінка 337 - cccxxxvn My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky : So was it when my life began, So is it now I am a man, So be it when I shall grow old Or let me die ! The Child is father of the Man
Сторінка 328 - Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare ; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve ; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair ! Ah, happy, happy boughs ! that cannot shed
Сторінка 127 - I saw Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm, as it was bright : — And round beneath it, Time, in hours, days, years, Driven by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved ; in which the World And all her train were hurl'd. H. Vaughan
Сторінка 140 - on his funeral couch he lies! No pitying heart, no eye, afford While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm ; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush d in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Сторінка 23 - 2 , That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang: In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth
Сторінка 276 - on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster d around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding
Сторінка 77 - To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night—• It was the plant and flower of Light. Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.