Pencilings and Sketches of the Poets: A Record of Memory and LoveM.T. Downing, 1867 - 379 стор. |
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Сторінка 8
... wings I rove . Then I hail the pensive twilight , And its mantling robes of gray , With the deeper shades of even , Other thoughts and feelings play . EVENING PRAYER . FATHER ! in this holy hour , 8 TWILIGHT MUSINGS .
... wings I rove . Then I hail the pensive twilight , And its mantling robes of gray , With the deeper shades of even , Other thoughts and feelings play . EVENING PRAYER . FATHER ! in this holy hour , 8 TWILIGHT MUSINGS .
Сторінка 9
... Father ! guide , sustain me , Be my shield and succor still . In Thy power no ill can reach me , In Thy strength no harm befall ; Send Thy blessing to my pillow , As I nightly on Thee call . MEMORIES . What have I to do with by ...
... Father ! guide , sustain me , Be my shield and succor still . In Thy power no ill can reach me , In Thy strength no harm befall ; Send Thy blessing to my pillow , As I nightly on Thee call . MEMORIES . What have I to do with by ...
Сторінка 12
... father , JOHANN CASPAR SCHILLER , was a man of an adventurous character ; stern , exacting and fond of military glory . At the time of our hero's birth , he held the situa- tion of ensign and adjutant in the Wurtem- burg army ; still he ...
... father , JOHANN CASPAR SCHILLER , was a man of an adventurous character ; stern , exacting and fond of military glory . At the time of our hero's birth , he held the situa- tion of ensign and adjutant in the Wurtem- burg army ; still he ...
Сторінка 14
... father was raised to the rank of major , and young Schiller was promised an appointment in the Royal service . A desire from the Duke was equivalent to a command , and Friederich complied with the wishes of his father ; already he was ...
... father was raised to the rank of major , and young Schiller was promised an appointment in the Royal service . A desire from the Duke was equivalent to a command , and Friederich complied with the wishes of his father ; already he was ...
Сторінка 45
... father , my father , what more can there rest ? Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean- He has served thee as none would , thyself hast confess'd ; If nothing can shake thy wild thirst of desire , Let thy knights put to shame the ...
... father , my father , what more can there rest ? Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean- He has served thee as none would , thyself hast confess'd ; If nothing can shake thy wild thirst of desire , Let thy knights put to shame the ...
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Pencilings and Sketches of the Poets: A record of memory and love Margaret T. Downing Обмежений попередній перегляд - 2022 |
Pencilings and Sketches of the Poets: A record of memory and love Margaret T. Downing Обмежений попередній перегляд - 2022 |
Pencilings and Sketches of the Poets; a Record of Memory and Love Margaret T Downing Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2023 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Agnes ALFRED TENNYSON angel angel band Ave Maria baby smile Beadsman beautiful beloved sleep bless breast breath bright brow charm cheek child crown dark darling dead dear death deep dream dreary earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING Endymion Enoch Arden eyes face fair fancy father fear feel gaze genius gentle giveth His beloved goblet golden Goldsmith grace hand happy hath head hear heart Heaven holy hope hour Johnson Keats king knee Limours lips lonely look Lord Madeline memory merry mind morn mother myrrh never night noble o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH pale poem poet Porphyro pray prayer rest ROBERT BURNS round SAMUEL JOHNSON says Schiller shadows shine silent smile soft song sorrow soul spirit sweet tears tell tender thee Theodore Tilton thine thou hast thought Thro tion tones Walter Scott wandering weary wild words young youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 242 - The blisses of her dream so pure and deep. At which fair Madeline began to weep, And moan forth witless words with many a sigh ; While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep ; Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye, Fearing to move or speak, she look'd so dreamingly. xxxv. "Ah, Porphyro!
Сторінка 221 - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy ? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven : We know her woof, her texture ; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air and gnomed mine — Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
Сторінка 138 - His dews drop mutely on the hill, His cloud above it saileth still, Though on its slope men sow and reap: More softly than the dew is shed, Or cloud is floated, overhead, He giveth His beloved — sleep.
Сторінка 227 - St Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold : Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith...
Сторінка 238 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for Heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint...
Сторінка 252 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again; From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure...
Сторінка 268 - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Сторінка 233 - O tell me, Angela, by the holy loom Which none but secret sisterhood may see, When they St. Agnes' wool are weaving piously." XIV. "St. Agnes! Ah! it is St. Agnes' Eve — Yet men will murder upon holy days.
Сторінка 329 - Imagination fondly stoops to trace The parlour splendours of that festive place: The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnished clock that clicked behind the door; The chest contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day...
Сторінка 240 - A table, and, half anguished, threw thereon A cloth of woven crimson, gold, and jet : — O for some drowsy Morphean amulet ! The boisterous, midnight, festive clarion, The kettle-drum, and far-heard clarionet, Affray his ears, though but in dying tone : — The hall-door shuts again, and all the noise is gone.