The Poetical Common-place Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of Standard and Fugitive Poetry, Including a Few Translations Hitherto UnpublishedJohn Anderson, 1822 - 388 стор. |
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Сторінка xii
... breath of wind ; no zephyr now , 91 Hark to the knell , 265 Hast thou seen , with flash incessant , 179 Heav'n ! what enormous strength does Death possess ! 359 Hence , away , thou syren , leave me ! 292 How lonely is this wilder'd ...
... breath of wind ; no zephyr now , 91 Hark to the knell , 265 Hast thou seen , with flash incessant , 179 Heav'n ! what enormous strength does Death possess ! 359 Hence , away , thou syren , leave me ! 292 How lonely is this wilder'd ...
Сторінка xiv
... breath of Spring is on thee , Aspley Wood ! The curfew tolls the knell of parting day , 111 187 The flow'ry May now from her green lap throws , 382 The great Achilles , terror of the plain , 159 The hinds how blest who ne'er beguil'd ...
... breath of Spring is on thee , Aspley Wood ! The curfew tolls the knell of parting day , 111 187 The flow'ry May now from her green lap throws , 382 The great Achilles , terror of the plain , 159 The hinds how blest who ne'er beguil'd ...
Сторінка 2
... breathing sigh , When Friendship's lips the tones repeat ; But oh ! a thousand times more sweet The praise of those we love to hear ! Like balmy showers in summer heat , It falls upon the greedy ear . The lover lulls his rankling wound ...
... breathing sigh , When Friendship's lips the tones repeat ; But oh ! a thousand times more sweet The praise of those we love to hear ! Like balmy showers in summer heat , It falls upon the greedy ear . The lover lulls his rankling wound ...
Сторінка 4
... . THE SOLITARY TOMB . BARTON . Nor a leaf of the tree which stood near me was stirr'd , Tho ' a breath might have mov'd it so lightly ; Nor a farewell note from a sweet - singing bird 4 THE POETICAL The Solitary Tomb, Barton,
... . THE SOLITARY TOMB . BARTON . Nor a leaf of the tree which stood near me was stirr'd , Tho ' a breath might have mov'd it so lightly ; Nor a farewell note from a sweet - singing bird 4 THE POETICAL The Solitary Tomb, Barton,
Сторінка 9
... breathing . And sweeter yet the genuine glow Of youthful friendship's high devotion , Responsive to the voice of woe , When heaves the breast with strong emotion . And youth is sweet , with many a joy , That frolics by in artless ...
... breathing . And sweeter yet the genuine glow Of youthful friendship's high devotion , Responsive to the voice of woe , When heaves the breast with strong emotion . And youth is sweet , with many a joy , That frolics by in artless ...
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The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2009 |
The Poetical Commonplace Book: Consisting of an Original Selection of ... C. W. C. Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2009 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
admiring bands ANONYMOUS art thou beam beauty beneath billows black crows blast blest bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright charm cheek cherub clouds cold dark dark wave dead dear death delight dream earth ev'ning ev'ry fair fate Fingal flowers fond Gelert gleam gloom glory glow grave green grief grove hail hast hath hear heart Heav'n HENRY KIRKE WHITE hill hour kiss of Morn light lips lonely LORD BYRON lov'd lyre maid moon morn mountain mourn Muse ne'er night o'er pale rapture rill rose round scene seem'd shade sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound star Star of Bethlehem storm strain stream summer sweet swell tear tell tempest thee thine thou thought tomb tree trembling Twas vale voice wake wander wave weep wild wind wing woods youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 53 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Сторінка 187 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Сторінка 270 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Сторінка 247 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee...
Сторінка 235 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out...
Сторінка 304 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Сторінка 189 - If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death...
Сторінка 229 - Can I forget the dismal night, that gave My soul's best part for ever to the grave! How silent did his old companions tread, By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead, Through breathing statues, then unheeded things, Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!
Сторінка 85 - Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more ! Oh cruel fate ! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace — where no perils can chase me?
Сторінка 4 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.