The forget me not: a selection of simple songs1853 - 118 стор. |
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Сторінка 10
... hope ascend . There may all our troubles end . WORDSWORTH . To the Daisy . BRIGHT flower , whose 10 THE FORGET ME NOT . Mutability of Love Those Ev'ning Bells In the Morning of Life Heaven Song All that's Bright must Fade Ginevra.
... hope ascend . There may all our troubles end . WORDSWORTH . To the Daisy . BRIGHT flower , whose 10 THE FORGET ME NOT . Mutability of Love Those Ev'ning Bells In the Morning of Life Heaven Song All that's Bright must Fade Ginevra.
Сторінка 11
... hope for times that are unkind And every season ? Thou wanderest the wide world about , Unchecked by pride or scrupulous doubt , With friends to greet thee , or without , Yet pleased and willing ; Meek , yielding to the occasion's call ...
... hope for times that are unkind And every season ? Thou wanderest the wide world about , Unchecked by pride or scrupulous doubt , With friends to greet thee , or without , Yet pleased and willing ; Meek , yielding to the occasion's call ...
Сторінка 28
... hope in some near port or bay , And dashest him again to earth : -there let him lay . The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock - built cities , bidding nations quake , And monarchs tremble in their capitals , The oak ...
... hope in some near port or bay , And dashest him again to earth : -there let him lay . The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock - built cities , bidding nations quake , And monarchs tremble in their capitals , The oak ...
Сторінка 40
... sorrow serenely can greet ; And thy smile , glist'ning bright on each dew - drop appears Bringing hope from on high , forming rainbows in tears . COWPER . Buman Frailty . WEAK and irresolute is man 40 THE FORGET ME NOT .
... sorrow serenely can greet ; And thy smile , glist'ning bright on each dew - drop appears Bringing hope from on high , forming rainbows in tears . COWPER . Buman Frailty . WEAK and irresolute is man 40 THE FORGET ME NOT .
Сторінка 50
... hope ! He is not in the East , in his gorgeous halls , Where the servile crowd before him falls , Till the bow - string comes , in an hour of wrath , And he vanishes from the tyrant's path , But , O , thou slanderer false and vile ! 50 ...
... hope ! He is not in the East , in his gorgeous halls , Where the servile crowd before him falls , Till the bow - string comes , in an hour of wrath , And he vanishes from the tyrant's path , But , O , thou slanderer false and vile ! 50 ...
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The Forget-me-not: a Selection of Simple Songs for Thinking Hearts. Second ... Повний перегляд - 1853 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Amiction angel art thou Assyrian beams beautiful Beneath bird bless bliss breast breath breeze bright Buttercups and Daisies calm child church-yard clouds communion dear Home death delight dost thou doth dream dwell earth English Peasant ev'ning bells feel flower Francesco Doria gentle glory grace green happy hath heart heaven hope land leaves light lonely mar delights miss thee moonlight play mountain nature's ne'er never night o'er pale Pale flowers pensive perfect law pleasant pleasure porringer PRISONER OF CHILLON random seed roam roses round shade shed sigh silent sing skies slave sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit spring star stream summer sunny hours sweet tears tell There's There's a home thine things Thou hast thou not love thought thunderstrike toil trees Twas twill walnut shade waves 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.