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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... fears to lose . W. Shakespeare VI 2 Since brass , nor stone , nor earth , nor boundless sea , But sad mortality o'ersways their power , How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea , Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? O how ...
... fears to lose . W. Shakespeare VI 2 Since brass , nor stone , nor earth , nor boundless sea , But sad mortality o'ersways their power , How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea , Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? O how ...
Сторінка 12
... fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , - Ere you were born , was beauty's summer dead . W. Shakespeare XIX ROSALINE Like to the clear in highest sphere Where all imperial glory shines , Of selfsame colour is her hair Whether ...
... fear of which , hear this , thou age unbred , - Ere you were born , was beauty's summer dead . W. Shakespeare XIX ROSALINE Like to the clear in highest sphere Where all imperial glory shines , Of selfsame colour is her hair Whether ...
Сторінка 14
... fear deliver : - But come behind , for if she look upon thee , Alas ! poor Love ! then thou art woe - begone thee ! Anon . XXII A SONG FOR MUSIC Weep you no more , sad fountains : - What need you flow so fast ? : - Look how the snowy ...
... fear deliver : - But come behind , for if she look upon thee , Alas ! poor Love ! then thou art woe - begone thee ! Anon . XXII A SONG FOR MUSIC Weep you no more , sad fountains : - What need you flow so fast ? : - Look how the snowy ...
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... fear ! T. Campion XXVII LOVE'S PERJURIES On a day , alack the day ! Love , whose month is ever May , Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air : Through the velvet leaves the wind , All unseen , ' gan passage find ; That ...
... fear ! T. Campion XXVII LOVE'S PERJURIES On a day , alack the day ! Love , whose month is ever May , Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air : Through the velvet leaves the wind , All unseen , ' gan passage find ; That ...
Сторінка 31
... fear not me ! For who a sleeping lion dares provoke ? It shall suffice me here to sit and see Those lips shut up that never kindly spoke : What sight can more content a lover's mind Than beauty seeming harmless , if not kind ? My words ...
... fear not me ! For who a sleeping lion dares provoke ? It shall suffice me here to sit and see Those lips shut up that never kindly spoke : What sight can more content a lover's mind Than beauty seeming harmless , if not kind ? My words ...
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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.