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 12
... glory shines , Of selfsame colour is her hair Whether unfolded , or in twines : Heigh ho , fair Rosaline ! Her eyes are sapphires set in snow , Resembling heaven by every wink ; The Gods do fear whenas they glow , And I do tremble when ...
... glory shines , Of selfsame colour is her hair Whether unfolded , or in twines : Heigh ho , fair Rosaline ! Her eyes are sapphires set in snow , Resembling heaven by every wink ; The Gods do fear whenas they glow , And I do tremble when ...
Сторінка 14
... glory , Subdue her heart , who makes me glad and sorry : Out of thy golden quiver Take thou thy strongest arrow That will through bone and marrow , : - And me and thee of grief and fear deliver : - But come behind , for if she look upon ...
... glory , Subdue her heart , who makes me glad and sorry : Out of thy golden quiver Take thou thy strongest arrow That will through bone and marrow , : - And me and thee of grief and fear deliver : - But come behind , for if she look upon ...
Сторінка 25
... glory fight , And Time that gave , doth now his gift confound . Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth , And delves the parallels in beauty's brow ; Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth , And nothing stands but for his scythe ...
... glory fight , And Time that gave , doth now his gift confound . Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth , And delves the parallels in beauty's brow ; Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth , And nothing stands but for his scythe ...
Сторінка 30
... world reviveth ! Follow those pure beams , whose beauty burneth , That so have scorchéd thee As thou still black must be Till her kind beams thy black to brightness turneth . Follow her , while yet her glory shineth ! There 30 Book 339.
... world reviveth ! Follow those pure beams , whose beauty burneth , That so have scorchéd thee As thou still black must be Till her kind beams thy black to brightness turneth . Follow her , while yet her glory shineth ! There 30 Book 339.
Сторінка 31
... glory shineth ! There comes a luckless night That will dim all her light ; -And this the black unhappy shade divineth . Follow still , since so thy fates ordained ! The sun must have his shade , Till both at once do fade , ― The sun ...
... glory shineth ! There comes a luckless night That will dim all her light ; -And this the black unhappy shade divineth . Follow still , since so thy fates ordained ! The sun must have his shade , Till both at once do fade , ― The sun ...
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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.