The forget me not: a selection of simple songs1853 - 118 стор. |
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Сторінка 13
... face , In which more plainly I could trace Benignity and home - bred sense Ripening in perfect innocence . Here scatter'd , like a random seed , Remote from men , thou dost not need The embarrass'd look of shy distress , And maidenly ...
... face , In which more plainly I could trace Benignity and home - bred sense Ripening in perfect innocence . Here scatter'd , like a random seed , Remote from men , thou dost not need The embarrass'd look of shy distress , And maidenly ...
Сторінка 14
... face with gladness overspread ! Sweet looks by human kindness bred ! And seemliness complete , that sways Thy courtesies , about thee plays ; With no restraint , but such as springs From quick and eager visitings Of thoughts , that lie ...
... face with gladness overspread ! Sweet looks by human kindness bred ! And seemliness complete , that sways Thy courtesies , about thee plays ; With no restraint , but such as springs From quick and eager visitings Of thoughts , that lie ...
Сторінка 30
... wall'd distant town , And whiter sails go skimming down ; And then there was a little isle , Which in my very face did smile , The only one in view ; ; A small green isle , it seem'd no more , 30 THE FORGET ME NOT . 8888.
... wall'd distant town , And whiter sails go skimming down ; And then there was a little isle , Which in my very face did smile , The only one in view ; ; A small green isle , it seem'd no more , 30 THE FORGET ME NOT . 8888.
Сторінка 33
... That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown . For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast , And breath'd on the face of the foe as he passed , And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill THE FORGET ME NOT . 33.
... That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown . For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast , And breath'd on the face of the foe as he passed , And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill THE FORGET ME NOT . 33.
Сторінка 58
... face to face , And pierce , like a shaft , the boundless space ! To pass through the bowers of the silvery cloud , And to sing in the thunder - halls aloud ; To spread out the wings for a wild free flight With the upper cloud - winds ...
... face to face , And pierce , like a shaft , the boundless space ! To pass through the bowers of the silvery cloud , And to sing in the thunder - halls aloud ; To spread out the wings for a wild free flight With the upper cloud - winds ...
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The Forget-me-not: a Selection of Simple Songs for Thinking Hearts. Second ... Повний перегляд - 1853 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
angel beams beautiful bells are ringing Beneath bird birds of paradise bless bliss breast breath breeze bright Buttercups child clouds communion Daisies death deep delight dost thou doth dream dwell earth ev'ning bells fade feel flower Francesco Doria gentle glory grace green happy hath heart heaven heavenly hope leaves life's light lonely lover walks mar delights miss thee moonlight play morn mother mountain nature's ne'er never night o'er pale Pale flowers pensive perfect law pleasant pleasure porringer random seed roam roses round shade shed sigh silent sing skies slave sleep smile song soothing sorrow soul spirit spring star stream summer sweet tears tell There's There's a home thine things Thou art gone Thou hast thought thunderstrike toil trees Twas twill walnut shade weep wild wings world is fair youth
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Сторінка 12 - SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight ; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament ; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair ; Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair ; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Сторінка 34 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
Сторінка 21 - Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Сторінка 8 - FRIEND after friend departs, Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end; Were this frail world our only rest, Living or dying none were blest.
Сторінка 29 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play; Time writes no wrinkle on thy azure brow; Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Сторінка 31 - A small green isle, it seem'd no more, Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing Of gentle breath and hue.
Сторінка 31 - As then to me he seem'd to fly; And then new tears came in my eye, And I felt troubled and would fain I had not left my recent chain. And when I did descend again, The darkness of my dim abode Fell on me as a heavy load; It was as is a new-dug grave, Closing o'er one we sought to save; And yet my glance, too much opprest, Had almost need of such a rest.
Сторінка 20 - That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad ; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; •*—Her beauty made me glad. 22 " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Сторінка 17 - Joyous as morning Thou art laughing and scorning; Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, And, though little troubled with sloth, Drunken Lark! thou would'st be loth To be such a traveller as I. Happy, happy Liver, With a soul as strong as a mountain river Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver, Joy and jollity be with us both!
Сторінка 42 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.